


Understudy

by uragaaru



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, Children of Characters, Cute cat, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Fashion & Couture, Gen, Gender Issues, Genderfluid, Genderqueer Character, No Lesbians Die, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Other, Queer Themes, Sibling Rivalry, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uragaaru/pseuds/uragaaru
Summary: A hapless cynic finds himself face to face with a capricious fate. Now, facing a new path, he turns to a Grandmaster in order to learn the ropes and deal with the new chaos that follows him. A workplace romantic comedy set in the Ranma Universe.





	1. Issue 1: A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to Work

"There is nothing with which every man is so afraid as getting to know how enormously much he is capable of doing and becoming."

-Søren Kierkegaard

September in Tokyo doesn't herald the start of Autumn so much as drag the remnants of summer behind it. Typhoon season was still going strong and, on one Monday morning, a storm blew through Tokyo. It was light enough that the throngs of millions who commuted to central Tokyo each day braved the way to work, despite the seemingly inexhaustible rain and wind.

Outside of the offices of Bungeisha Publishing, which took up most of a tall skyscraper in the midst of the bustle that is Chiyoda Ward's Business District, a tall woman in her late twenties huddled under a small awning just in front of the large revolving door that regulated the flow of salaried employees entering the building.

She stood about 175 cm in low heeled Oxford shoes. Her frame was lithe and boyish. The black slacks she wore were bunched up at the ankles and the waist hung off of her hips. She seemed to swim in the crimson button shirt and charcoal blazer she wore, which also served to downplay most of the curvature her body had. The American-striped dark tie hung loose on her neck, even with the knot adjusted up to the collar. The woman's delicate face, with its pale skin, high cheekbones, deep-set hazel eyes, and short, spiky silver hair would have evoked an almost otherworldly grace but for her mouth, which was turned down in a scowl along with slumped shoulders as she looked down at the possessions in her hands: a black leather briefcase which had seen better days and a black nylon umbrella which had given up the ghost altogether, its ribs blown back and apart by the winds which accompanied the rain.

"Piece of shit umbrella," she muttered in a low contralto as she took a breath and, steadying herself, entered the building.

_This must be a test_  
_Maybe they are on to me_  
_It's not the way I look_  
_My clip on tie and button shirt_  
_are all by the book_  
_I dot my i's and cross my t's_  
_and if I cross the line_  
_I'm just rehearsing my part_

_If I'm Ophelia_  
_then I will put the_  
_shake in Shakespeare_  
_I get to go mad_  
_reviving Ophelia_  
_then I will put the_  
_ham in Hamlet (...I don't want to be the understudy)_  
_I want to go mad!_

_It's more than a supporting role_  
_in a play that's being put on_  
_by an all boy's Catholic School_  
_It's cool because I get to go mad_

\- Bitesize

Understudy

Premiere Issue: A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to Work

On the first floor of the building, just off the elevator pool and security desk, there was a small employee commissary. It was little more than a takeout restaurant, the room holding a small counter at one end where people bought faux-french pastries in the morning and boxed lunches in the afternoon. Two small tables and chairs were placed, seemingly for appearance's sake, at the other. The still-dripping silver-haired woman bought a small coffee and a small green tea and went up the elevators.

"Thank goodness for small favors," she whispered to herself as she held the ID card, her thumb covering the photo embossed on it, against the elevator sensor, which beeped, allowing her to access her 14th floor office.

As she emerged from the elevator, she walked down a hallway and entered a large, glass encased office. Even with the lack of people, due to both the early hour and the rain, the office was already bustling with activity. The woman noted two designers going over details of a layout on a large computer monitor as well as two younger, college aged women running around with coffee or with bundles of copies. She also noted the confused stares when they caught sight of her. The woman sighed and continued to a small corner office where she walked behind a desk, draped her sodden blazer on the back of a faux-Aeron style office chair, sat down with a thud, and logged into the computer terminal while taking a sip of her coffee.

She had just sorted through her email and turned off the vacation notification when she heard a knock on the opened door. Turning her head, she saw a petite, mousy woman who practically skipped into the room. She stood about 155 centimeters in height, give or take what was added to it by the pair of kitten heels she had on. She wore a layered outfit of black patterned tights, a grey wool skirt, and a purple top which was balanced with a black cardigan sweater. The young woman emanated boundless energy with her bright smile and dyed even brighter blue hair and was a questionably welcome counterpoint to the rain and the early morning.

"Ah, Tooru-kun! Are you back today? How was your-" her exuberant welcome had sputtered to a stop as the two women's eyes met. The blue haired woman's expression was one of confusion and unfamiliarity. The silver haired woman's was that of resignation.

"Um... can I help you?" The blue-haired woman asked politely, but stiffly.

The silver-haired woman in the damp suit sighed as she unbuttoned the cuffs of her shirt and rolled up the sleeves before turning back to her email, "As you can see Mari-chan, China went... great," The woman replied, punctuating the last work with as much vitriol as was possible.

"Who- who are you?"

The woman didn't look at Mari, remaining rather focused on the open window on her computer, "Who do you think I am, Mari-chan? Can you give me a moment? I got to make sure the Chief Editor knows I'm back today. Then I can tell you all about China."

Mari scratched her head as she looked at the strange woman in front of her type hurriedly, a grimace detracting from her otherwise delicate features.

"Tooru-kun? Is..." Mari said haltingly, as if testing the words, "is that... really you, Tooru-kun?"

The woman looked up from the monitor and gave Mari a wry smile, "That depends. Did you watch my cat like I asked you to while I was away? I swear Chibi's litter box was a mess when I got home last night."

Mari's jaw dropped, "Oh my goodness, what happened to you!?"

"Feh," Tooru grunted, before she began grumbling to herself in a a less than dulcet tone.

"All right," she groused, "I was trying not to make a big deal out of it, but I also decided when I got out of bed this morning that there's no point in being coy about this. Can you do me a favor, Mari-chan?"

Mari nodded hesitantly as Tooru continued, "Okay, can you gather everyone who's already in the office and lead them to the break room? Actually, now that I think about it, I probably should inform Human Resources about this, but..." she paused considering the thought seriously before waving a hand in dismissal, "ah, to hell with it."

Mari nodded, "Oh, okay. I think it's just Erica, Yumiko, and the interns who're in this early."

"That'll do for now. If the Chief Editor needs a more formal demo, who am I to deny her?" Tooru said in a tired voice, "I'll see you there in a minute."

Tooru picked up the paper cup of tea and walked out towards the hallway where the elevators were located. She walked into the men's room located next to the elevators and, after a beat, walked back out holding a small stack of paper towels.

Back inside the office she walked into the tile-floored break room. Five minutes later, the half dozen or so employees in attendance had arrived. They looked at Tooru strangely, before looking over towards Mari and giving her looks of confusion and/or incredulity.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like a second rate drag king?" one of the designers, a tall, olive-skinned American woman with straightened shoulder-length auburn hair, wearing dark slacks, a white shirt, and a black blazer asked, "The only reason I'm not calling security right now is because Mari said it was important."

Tooru merely shook her head and, holding a hand up, said, "I can explain, Erica, much as it pains me to." The auburn haired woman, looked back at Mari, puzzled at the remark.

Tooru regained her bearings and bowed to the assembled team of women, "Hi everyone. Before I start I just wanted to say it's good to be back. I actually missed this place, if you could believe it. I also have a spread of photos I took in Shanghai, Xian, and Hong Kong that we could conceivably run in Snap! if we're low on features for next month."

"Is that really you, Fuki-kun?" the other designer, a petite woman in ballet flats, a black dress, and white blazer with black trim and long, wavy brown hair, asked. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she analyzed Tooru's face, leaning around the silver haired woman to look at her from multiple angles.

Tooru sighed, then nodded. "Yuriko, I was hoping starting off with shop talk would soften the shock. Yes, it's me. It's a long story. I had hoped to not bother the office with it, but this morning's typhoon and my umbrella had... different ideas. It's a long story and I barely believe what happened to me. However, I take it some measure of proof is needed, particularly for our American co-worker," she said, catching a glimpse of the glowering Erica.

Tooru took the lid off of the paper cup of green tea and put a finger in to test the temperature. After nodding in satisfaction, she overturned the cup on her head and, in an instant, felt the change. Tooru noticed the looks of confusion and horror on their faces as he dabbed the excess liquid from his head and adjusted his shirt.

Before anyone said a word, Tooru raised a hand and said, "I know, I know. This is the weirdest thing I've ever seen, too. To make a long story short, I've had what may be one of the worst vacations on record. Regardless, I'm happy to be back and, honestly, I'd rather not dwell in it. I'd also ask that this not leave the office. I'm looking at you in particular, Yuriko," he stared at the short woman who looked away from him, before looking at Erica who, holding Yuriko closer to her, nodded.

"Well then, with those histrionics out of the way, I look forward to continuing to work here at Bungeisha's fashion division."

Tooru bowed and slowly walked back to his office, amidst the small sea of stares, noting one intern steadying the other, who looked pale and faint . He sat down at his desk and began reading through his email, but after a moment, he put the keyboard aside and slumped his torso on the desk, resting his head of his folded arms.

"This sucks..." he moaned to himself. He heard a knock once more.

"Um... Tooru-kun?"

Tooru, responded, not moving except to speak, "Give me a moment, Mari-chan. While I'm certain I broke the record for most interesting Monday morning meeting by a country mile, I'm still deciding if I should have just bullshitted everyone and saved myself the grief," he said in a defeated voice.

Mari walked over and, to Tooru's shock, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened to you?"

Tooru sat up and spun his chair around to face Mari. He briefly looked outside his office and saw one of the interns sitting at a cubicle just outside his office, aimlessly poking at her phone. He also spied a tiny pair of feet in ballet flats by the door. Tooru let out a quiet snort and turned to Mari.

"Take a seat. Well... it's like this..."

Tooru Fuki was, not to put too fine a point on it, lost. He cursed his luck out in the open mountainous scrubland. He was a tall, lanky figure, never quite filling into his 183cm tall, long-limbed frame. He wore long khaki trousers, hiking boots, a light-weight blue jacket, and a sturdy camping backpack made of canvas. He let out a sigh and began to mutter to no one in particular.

"Stupid value saver tours. I can't believe this... show up in Xining cause that web site said Western China was 'The hidden jewel of Asia'. What a load of crap. Go into the tour guide office. Bus tour? Walking tour? Nope. I they just give me a 40 year old map of Central Asia, a walking stick, and a .22 pistol 'for bandits and wolves'. I don't even know how to use the damn thing! Plus these names don't even make sense. 'Chinese Village of Woman Heroes'? 'Valley of Cursed Springs'? What the hell kind of tourist attractions are these!? There goes my vacation... I spent five years racking up that kind of leave!" he whined, holding his hands against his head, knocking his glasses askew and mussing his short black hair.

Exhausted, Tooru spied, then sat on a moss covered boulder just off the road, or rather what narrow stretch of beaten path not much wider than a donkey passed for a road. He reached into his aluminum and canvas backpack and grabbed a canteen of water and, before opening, hesitated and, reached into a different pocket and took out a flask and opened it instead. He took a large swig of American whisky, crisp and clean as it went down and, with a sigh of exhaustion and relief, began to take stock of how he had ended up here.

Tooru, admittedly had a pretty good, if time-intensive, job. He worked as editor and staff writer to several fashion and beauty magazines for a publishing company. He hadn't exactly been taken with the topics in question. He had majored in art and graphic design in college and when he started at the publisher nearly a decade ago he was aiming to work for one of the well-known art journals or architecture magazines the company published.

However, as an intern, he had been given a chance to advance both in terms of responsibility and, more importantly,income and job security. The caveat was that the magazines that needed him were Cham-Cham, a fashion magazine aimed at high schoolers and college-aged women, Snap! A street-fashion and celebrity magazine aimed at junior high and high school students, and Nunnu, a fashion and lifestyle magazine aimed for women in their 20s and early thirties, particularly the the OL-set.

At the time, it wasn't an easy change, writing about Marc Jacobs or Junya Watanabe instead of Christo and Jean-Claude or Takashi Murakami, but he had handled it with a certain amount of grace and a lot of background research during his spare time. He had slowly worked up the ladder as a photo-editor and staff writer at Cham-Cham and, later, when the three magazines began to be published by the same staff due to decreases in circulation, he avoided the rash of layoffs and rose into the editing ranks to his present position. The work needed to get there though, had put a strain on his social life and even if, in the back of his mind, there had been the initial prospect of being surrounded by pretty women, the reality was he was too busy and, more importantly, too intimidated, to ask any of the single ones out.

There was also another complication as far as his love life went. He had tried rationalizing it in so many ways. He was tweedy or nerdy or too artsy or too much of a workaholic. But the bottom line was this: it seemed as if most people who met him thought he was gay. Not that there was anything wrong with that and in both college and his line of work he had met and befriended plenty of gay men and women, but he wasn't one of them. Not that'd you know from the times he'd been hit on by men at work-related events, on the train, even at regular bars when he was trying to talk to women! He didn't know what it was about him that sent the wrong signals. Even before he landed into his line of work, which didn't help his image much, people simply assumed the wrong things about him and it took more far more convincing than should be necessary to disabuse them of that first impression.

Mentally, Tooru began to go down a well-traveled checklist. Granted, he conceded, he dressed well, kept fit, if not exactly muscular, moisturized, and used product in his hair. But, he rationalized, he had bad acne as a teenager and he didn't want to turn into a dark, leathery skinned middle-aged man like his father had. He also had suffered from dandruff so he was sensitive about making sure his hair was healthy. He wore nice clothes that fit his tall, lean frame, but they were just stuff he found off the rack at H&M or Uniqlo. His glasses were designer, but they weren't particularly expensive, just suitable for his face. He spent money on his haircuts, but the short, slightly spiked black hair framed his oval face and glasses well. He didn't think they were remarkable other than he made sure they suited him well. Yet, he had, against his will or his intentions, fallen into the stereotype of a herbivore man.

The other mystery was that his mannerisms weren't effeminate, at least he thought. He was hardly macho, but Tooru figured that he exuded a stoicism and rationality that made up for it. He didn't lisp or gesticulate when he spoke and his paranoia over it tended to make him seem more clumsy or robotic than anything else. He never used any particularly feminine forms of speech, but was polite to a fault. Most of his friends were women, but that was because he didn't really have friends outside of work and, given the topics of the magazines he edited, the only other guy who worked there was a staff writer who'd always complain that he'd rather be writing about cars and motorcycles, neither of which never particularly piqued Tooru's interest.

He had an eye for color and contour and composition, but he was an artist and designer, after all. Even if his day job was editing, he spent many nights and weekends on patterns, designs for t-shirts and prints, and oil paintings at home. He recalled with the clarity of a gunshot the moment, back in his life drawing class in college, when people noticed his discomfort (which was due to nervousness over hiding his arousal) caused by the female models, people assumed he was either disgusted by the sight of a naked woman or, worse, was somehow jealous of them! No amount of explanation otherwise had really fixed that misunderstanding and, for the rest of his time in college, he never really talked to women on a romantic level outside of the occasional mixers he was dragged to. Three years ago, his only girlfriend, Shoko Takeda, had left him after three months because she needed, "someone more aggressive and passionate."

After that, outside of a few one night stands, Tooru never had much of a love life. He threw himself into his work, his art, and his cat, but felt empty inside. Part of the reason he finally cashed in his vacation time to go to China was to clear his head and figure out who he was and what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He liked his job, but the routine and the loneliness outside of work had begun taking its toll and, after the Fall lineup issues had gone to the printers just before O-bon, he fled to China to do some thinking. Of course, he thought the contemplation would have been on an air-conditioned tour bus or, at the least, with a guide who knew where the hell he was going.

Which led to the present situation. He was lost in Western China, with a map that still listed the USSR as a country and was dotted with landmarks that sounded straight out of a fairy tale. His grasp of the language was a phrasebook and a worn Lonely Planet guide he bought used. After taking another healthy swig from his flask, he stood up and began walking down the path before him, which slowly sloped upwards as he made his way towards the northeast.

Tooru looked at the map once more, talking to himself, "Okay, I guess that over there is..." he looked at a particularly high and intimidating mountain, " 'Phoenix Mountain'?"

Tooru began walking as his attention remained focused on the map. Out of the corner of his eye, it appeared to Tooru that he was in some sort of clearing with a bamboo forest around him,

"Okay so if that's Phoenix Mountain that means the 'Village of Women Heroes'..." he laughed to himself, "What like Greek Amazons or something? Well, maybe it'd worth my while to stop there if that was the case. Anyways, it's about 40 kilometers to the east, which means I'm somewhere in..." He took a step forward.

"Customer sir, wait!" a man's voice called out, panicked.

"What?" Tooru turned around quickly to see the origin of the voice, but the ground under his left foot gave away and he fell, falling into a pool of water. Tooru was weighed down by his pack but was able to orient himself and he breached the surface. A middle-aged man, in an old PLA uniform and a young woman in a pink and purple silk top and white capri pants were at the edge of the pond he had fallen into. The girl held Tooru's walking stick outwards towards him and Tooru used it to climb out of the pool. He was disoriented and sat to the ground in a heap.

The motion of sitting down felt strange. He felt a slight pain from the sudden jerkiness of the motion. it was strange because it came from his chest. Second, he noted his clothes felt looser, his pants in particular, feeling like they were hanging from his hips rather than his waist.

"Nǐ hái hǎo ma? Are you okay, Customer, sir?" The young woman asked in Chinese, then in simple Japanese.

"Uh, y- yeah. I'm a little shaken up but..." Tooru blinked. His voice sounded all wrong. "Did I swallow some water the wrong way?" he thought. He cleared his throat, but even that noise felt all wrong.

"What's going on? Who are you? What's-" Tooru finally took in the alto voice that emanated from his throat and stopped speaking. He didn't like this, whatever it was.

The young woman pulled out a mirror, but held the reflective surface towards her chest. She spoke quietly, but reassuringly.

"Okay, customer. I need you to relax. My name is Plum. You're in Zhòuquánxiāng or, in Japanese, Jusenkyo, the Valley of Cursed Springs. Each of these springs holds magic that curses anyone to fall there to take on the form of whatever or whoever drowned in them. As my Dad here would say," she waved her head towards the man next to her, "it 'very tragic story'."

"You gotta be kidd-" Tooru's incredulity had made him open his fool mouth and, as Plum turned the mirror to face him, he just as quickly shut up, whatever words he planned to say disappeared like sand against the tide of the visual and tactile information he was taking in.

Plum spoke again, with a maternal gentility and evenness borne from practice,"It's reversible. Hot water will make you normal, though cold water will change you again. You've specifically fallen into Nyaniichuan: The Spring of Drowned Girl."

Tooru was transfixed by the reflection in the mirror and stared blankly for nearly a full minute before blinking. A young woman in her late 20s or so stared back. Her eyes were a light hazel rather than his dark brown eyes and her hair was a shocking silver compared to his flat black hair. Tooru put a hand to his now diamond-shaped face, hoping it was all somehow a trick until he noted the long, tapering fingers brush his now full, pouty lips.

"This... this can't be! It's not fair! I mean... goddammit!" Tooru yelled, falling over, holding herself up by the hands, and taking deep, long breaths.

Plum continued, "I understand this is very upsetting to you, but I need you to put it into perspective. Some of the other springs here are much much worse than Nyaniichuan. You could have ended up as a horse, or piglet, or a demon. There will be some social issues to overcome, but my father and I have faith you will find your way."

Tooru looked up incredulously, "How do you know!? Are you cursed too?"

Plum shook her head and replied solemnly, "No, but we know just about everyone who has. Many curse victims have gone on to lead meaningful lives. I know some of those people quite well. Those who have your particular affliction, have especially succeeded, despite the apparent drawbacks."

Tooru looked up weakly, "But I, I have a job! And a life back in Tokyo. My parents, I... I can't- I... This was supposed to be my vacation!"

The middle-aged man finally spoke, flustered, "Aiya! What is it with Japanese and Jusenkyo!? Here." The man knelt down and helped Tooru stand, supporting her as she steadied herself. He reached into his pocket and handed her a white slip of paper.

"A business card?" Tooru asked and she took it from him.

"Give him a call. I have feeling you going to need advice," the man said in a didactic tone of voice.

Tooru slowly read aloud the text on the card, "Jusenkyo Support Center... Ranma Saotome... Tokyo?"

Plum nodded, "Yes, customer sir. My father and I decided to start it 10 years ago. Mr. Saotome is our Liaison for the Tokyo Office. They're meant to be a resource for cursed people who need guidance on how to go about their lives back in their home countries. We've established Jusenkyo Support Centers in 14 countries, but, for some reason, the Japanese ones have the largest membership."

Tooru dumbly nodded as he took in bits and pieces of the young woman's explanation. She blindly followed the man and Plum back to a small cottage away from the springs. The man gave him a large cup filled with warm water. He poured it over his head as Plum instructed and felt himself return to normal.

Tooru let out a breath, "Thank goodness. I think I was gonna lose it if I couldn't change back. I mean, what will people say?"

His momentary calm was quickly replaced with the sudden resurgance of panic, "Jeez, what will they say anyways!? What am I going to do?"

He fell back down onto a wooden chair by a small dining table. the numbness brought on by shock was beginning to wear off and he was unsure how to proceed. He looked at his hands, thinking of the contrast of what he saw and what had been there not five minutes before. He noted his vision blurring again and, after a beat, realized his glasses were stained with tears. He slowly removed them from his face and began rubbing the lenses with a wrung-out portion of shirt.

He shook his head, thinking to himself, "I'm not going to feel sorry for myself. I did this to myself and I need to deal with it. I've got to stay calm. Think."

Tooru was silent for a while before he softly spoke, "Y-you say there are others? Who change into weirder things?"

"Oh yeah!" the middle-aged man said in a conversational tone as he eased into a second chair opposite Tooru, "There a man who live in nearby village. He turn into huge monster. Bull with crane wings and tentacles. He even like it, too."

"What!?" Tooru replied, jaw once more agape. The older man smiled warmly, amused at the antics of the alternately collected and agitated young man before him.

"He usually harmless. Usually."

"Huh," Tooru replied, regaining some semblance of countenance as he put his glasses back on, "I guess... compared to that, what I got is easy peasy, huh?"

The older man shook his head, "Well I no think it so easy, but I have to ask you," he eyed Tooru warily, "You sure you not fall on Nyaniichuan on purpose? I have Google Alerts you know. Special dispensation from government to keep track of Jusenkyo talk online. I get many foreign guests coming to find Nyaniichuan and Nanniichuan to get changed on purpose! Big pain!"

Tooru looked shocked, "On purpose?"

The guide elaborated, "You know, born boy, want be girl. Born girl, want be boy. Jusenkyo cheaper and easier than doctors."

Tooru's eyes widened in horror as the memory of college came back like a sledgehammer, "No! It wasn't on purpose! I'm a normal man! I'm not a freak!"

The man shook his head, laughing deeply, which further perturbed Tooru, "Oh, you no more freak than they! They only fixing what wrong outside. Inside okay. You make mistake, have new outside, now need fix self inside!"

"Fix inside? I don't understand," his voice grew petulant, "There's nothing that needs fixing, inside or otherwise! I just have to avoid being touched by cold water and I can still be normal right?" Tooru asked.

Plum replied, as she sat down on a small stool, "It's not exactly practical, now is it? And besides, no one's proven it's the curse that does it, but you'd be surprised how easily water finds a Jusenkyo victim. Denial won't get you far, sir. When you return to Japan, I would contact Mr. Saotome. He'll explain better."

Tooru nodded as he sat in the cottage with the two guides. He felt his heart get pulled in different directions. One of the things he assumed to be constant and taken for granted was taken away from him. "But it was only some of the time," he reasoned, "though it can happen almost anytime. A spilled drink, a burst pipe, hell going to the beach is going to be a godforsaken nightmare!"

He grabbed his head as he thought about his family, "Oh god, mom and dad are not going to be happy about this. Dad'll probably blame me for it too. Well it is my fault, I suppose but... and I know Amane's gonna find this real goddamn hilarious."

Tooru spoke quietly, more to himself than the people around him, "Okay. I'm scared, angry, all messed up inside, but I'm an adult. I can get through this," He looked up at the young woman and her father and asked, "I have two questions."

Plum and her father nodded as he continued.

"One," he raised a finger, "there's no cure, is there?"

The two guides shook their heads.

"I thought so," he nodded before raising a second finger.

"Two, do you have anything to drink? I have a little whiskey left, but I need to get good and drunk before I go home."

Plum blinked at this, but her father quietly stood and walked over to a small shelf and brought out a large white bottle and three glasses.

"Baijiu. I make it to sell to Nujiezu and other villages. Strongest drink west of Chengdu," he quietly said, a wry smile appearing on his face.

The Guide poured small draughts of the clear liquid into each glass, though one glass easily had double the amount of the other two.

Tooru was both terrified and relieved when he saw that it was the overburdened glass being pushed towards him. He looked at the sloshing liquid, which smelled redolent of gasoline and change, and took a breath. He raised the glass at Plum and the Guide.

"To the worst day of my life!" he said with gusto and knocked back the glass.

While the trip back to Beijing was relatively smooth, leaving China was something of a nightmare as Plum's words proved annoyingly accurate. An errant water bottle by an clumsy American tourist in line behind him created something of a commotion as Chinese Airport Security led the suddenly female Tooru to a small, windowless room. Tooru's hungover self-pity had immediately sobered into panic until a man in a business suit entered. He held in his hands two styrofoam cups of differing sizes and set them down on the small table before Tooru.

"Nǐ huì shuō zhōngwén ma? Hangug-eo? Japanese?"

"Yes, Japanese" Tooru replied. She picked up the larger styrofoam container which seemed to contain only hot water, "Is it okay if I use it?"

The man nodded and Tooru reverted to his original form.

The man's calculated coolness broke momentarily, "Gods, I've never seen in it person before. Does it hurt?"

"Only my dignity," Tooru cooly replied as he began to fondly remember the turpentine like flavor of the Guide's home-distilled baijiu.

The man continued, "Well, be that as it may, there are some things you'll have take care of."

The man briefly left the room and came back with a small stack of papers. placing them on the desk, he handed Tooru a pen and said, "You'll need to fill out these forms before you can leave. The Chinese government likes to keep track of individuals who make contact with that place. Personally, you seem harmless enough, but regulations and all that. I'm sure your home country will also have some procedures."

The man walked back to the entrance, turned and face Tooru and said, "Well then, best of luck," before closing the door behind him.

Tooru was dumbfounded and sat for a few minutes wondering what had happened.

He balled his hands into fists and took a deep breath, but paused, only to let out a defeated sigh as he turned to the small table and, grabbing a pen, prepared to deal with the capstone and the final straw on what was, objectively, the worst vacation of his life: paperwork.

Tooru shrugged, his palms upturned as he concluded, "So yeah, got home from Narita at about 1AM last night and scrambled to get here by 8:30 which, given the rain, was nothing short of a miracle. Except for the fact that now rain of all things is my sworn enemy."

Mari looked Tooru, unsure how to react. She hesitantly spoke, "That's... that's unbelievable. It's staggering. It, it's just toomuch and yet..."

Tooru put his head back on his desk and groaned "I know. Just telling it makes me want to curl up in a corner and drink myself to oblivion. Again. But…" he sat up again, fixing his glasses, "I'm trying to be measured in my reaction. There's no point in whining about it, since I'm going to be like this the... rest of my life," Tooru replied, forcing the last phrase out with a breath.

Mari walked around the desk and gave Tooru a light hug, "It doesn't mean you can't feel a little bad about it. I don't really understand what you're going through, but.." she paused, putting a finger to her lips in thought. With a sure nod, she said, "If you need help or want to talk about it some more, I'm always around! We're all here for you chief. Even Chief Editor Nagano will support you!"

Tooru looked up to see the ever-present smile which seemed to define the woman as much as the hair. He shook his head and stifled a laugh. "How can anyone be this unfailingly positive?" he thought to himself.

"You're without the doubt, the most upbeat person I know," he said with a tired smile on his face, "Don't ever change."

Mari giggled, "You know, I think... maybe you should contact that Saotome person. It'd do you good to meet people who are going through the same thing."

"Yeah... I'm thinking about it," Tooru said, picking up the business card from his desk and showing it to her.

"I also think..." Mari said hesitantly, "That what the guides told you was right. It could be worse. And I mean, in some ways, maybe it's for the best."

"Really, Mari?" Tooru asked dubiously, "How could this be anything but a disaster?"

Mari replied with a wink, "Well, I mean, for one, the boys won't be able to keep their hands off of you!"

Tooru slapped his forehead in irritation, "Mari-chan, don't even kid around about that! Remember that time when I ran into you outside of work? When I was coming back from the gym to see you in line in front of Animate buying an otome game and you introduced me to your fujoshi friends as 'the guy I told you about who looks like Luva from Angelique'? And then they suggested 'shipping me with Oscar'? You know damn well I'm not like that!"

Mari gave Tooru a look of mock repentance, "Aw, Tooru-kun. I was only teasing. You have to admit, though. From now on, any girl you meet is gonna be jealous of you."

Tooru raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

Mari's eyes widened, "Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? You're beautiful! I mean, you're pretty handsome normally, in kind of a dull, off the rack, kind of way, but when you came in this morning, I thought I was going to have to steer you to that talent agency office on the 7th floor."

Tooru quickly swiveled his chair away from Mari and began aimlessly clicking his mouse while speaking, "Just perfect. I'm almost thirty and, apparently, I'm better looking as a girl. There goes my non-existent love life."

Tooru dropped his head on his desk again, mumbling through the particleboard and veneer desktop. " Look Mari, I need about a half hour to sulk alone before I can get to work. I have to check on the columnists and freelancers' progress. Maybe we can talk later?"

"Okay, let's get together at Vinvin tonight. See you later, Tooru-ku... Tooru." Mari said, bounding out of the office.

"Oh, Mari?"

"Yes?" Mari asked as she ducked her head back into the office.

Tooru looked at her earnestly, "Thanks. For being insufferably positive, I suppose. I owe you a drink." He saw Mari skip away and looked out his door for a few seconds before calmly stating.

"And the rest of you, I expect a report on where we're at for November in my inbox by 6 o'clock."

He heard the shuffling of feet as he rested his head on his desk.

With the rain still going strong by the time mid-afternoon hit, Tooru spent lunch at the Lobby commissary, bemoaning the sub-convenience store level lunch boxes sold, but wary leaving the building unnecessarily. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number on the business card given to him by the Jusenkyo Guide. After a few rings the other line picked up.

"Afternoon, Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts," a young woman's voice answered.

"Um… I'm looking for a Mr. Ranma Saotome."

"Yep, speaking. What can I do for you?"

Tooru furrowed his brow briefly, "Huh? Oh, right. My name is Tooru Fuki. I'm calling because I..."

"Interested in studying martial arts?" the voice asked expectantly.

"Not really. I, uh… let's just say I got back from China last night."

"Oh... OH! I see. Animal, human, or supernatural?"

Tooru furrowed his brow, "Excuse me?"

"Animal, human, or supernatural?" The voice repeated with a hint of exasperation.

"Um... human? I guess?" Tooru nervously replied.

"Got it. You in cursed form now?"

"Of course not!" Tooru yelled, attracting the attention of few people in line before Tooru, blushing, quieted down, "I'm at work. I already had an embarrassing encounter this morning because of the typhoon. I don't exactly plan to parade around as a... a..." Tooru forced himself to say the word, but couldn't, "a Nyaniichuan victim."

"Oh, that all? Same thing happened ta me when I was sixteen. Don't worry, it ain't so bad. I got over it eventually," the voice on the other line giggled, which only made Tooru erupt in pent up anger.

"Isn't so bad? It's been nothing but one complication after another! I got delayed at the airport for six hours while China made sure I wasn;t a 'security risk'!"

"Ah, yeah... That's an issue these days..." Ranma said, trailing off.

"What am I going to tell my parents? Everyone at work is already teasing me mercilessly over it. Hell, I'm never going to find a girlfriend. My life is ruined!" Tooru flailed his arm in frustration, confusing several people around him to move to different tables in the commissary..

"Woah, woah, calm down buddy. Trust me, I've been there. The center can help you out with that. Hell, I can also help you on some of the smaller stuff. Let me get your contact info and I'll send you the details. We meet every other Thursday here in my dojo in Nerima ward, not too far from the station. This is an on week, so you're in luck."

Tooru's brow furrowed, "Meet? What do you mean?"

"Didn't Plum tell ya? You're supposed ta get a membership discount if you mention Plum and her Pops."

"Huh?"

"Just messing with ya, man," Ranma said, chuckiling.

"Hey," Tooru countered, "Plum's old man let me drink about three bottles of that rocket fuel he makes out back, so for all I know, Jusenkyo could be one big pyramid scheme. I barely remembered where I got your business card from the next day."

Tooru heard a loud whistle from the other end before the woman replied, "Oh man, you must have been seriously losin' it if the Guide gave you his private stock. Kicks like an angry mule, but nothin's better for forgettin' your troubles."

"Yeah, until the paperwork," Tooru grumbled.

"Hah! Yeah, that's new, too. Well, short of it is, we run a not-for-profit support group for other Jusenkyo victims like us. We use it as a way to voice concerns, meet other people who are going through similar things, and offer resources for people who need it. Ya know, counseling, workplace interventions, occupational therapy, though that's usually for people who turn into things without thumbs. Most of the time, it's a good excuse to meet people and shoot the shit over food and drinks."

Tooru considered it as he poked at a pickled plum in his lunchbox, "Nerima, huh? I can handle that, assuming my boss lets me leave a little early."

"Excellent. I'll see you on Thursday, Fuki," the woman on the other line cheerfully replied.

"Thank you, um, Mr. Saotome."

That evening, Tooru braved through the ongoing storm until finally reaching the local watering hole, VinVin. VinVin was one of Chiyoda Ward's more recent and, thus, more trendy bars. It combined the aesthetics of an upscale Italian wine bar with a traditional izakaya. Many of the typical izakaya offerings like yakitori, beer, and whisky were present along with traditional Venetian Cicchetti like castraure, fopeti, and a wide variety of wines.

Tooru was wiping the rain from her hair and shoulders as she scanned the bar for her co-workers.

"Over here, Tooru-chan!" Mari's voice could be heard in the din of the bar. She sat in a corner table along with Yuriko and Erica. Tooru slapped her forehead and, head hung low, sat at the table.

Tooru sighed and said, "Mari-chan don't... don't call me that. This is weird enough as it is."

Erica and Yuriko began tittering in laughter as they whispered to one another. Tooru sighed as he stared at the petite, curvy brunette with long curly brown hair smile up at the taller, lithe American woman with shoulder length auburn hair. Their relationship was something of an open secret and Tooru wondered how anyone could be so close when they worked in the same office on almost the exact same job.

"So... business as usual for you two then? How's next month's Nunnu coming?" Tooru asked.

"Going well, chief!" Yuriko said.

"The wireframe layout for the feature is all set. Just waiting for the text content to come in," Erica said.

"Any of those photos I took going to be useful?"

"Hmm... there were a few, but I'm still touching them up," Yuriko said.

"Touching them up? They're street fashion photos," Tooru replied, somewhat confused.

"Well, let's just say you're not much of a photographer, Chief," Erica replied.

Tooru sighed and ordered a Carlsberg lager.

"Are you going to change back, Tooru-kun?" Mari asked.

"I want to, but... It's been raining all day. What's the point?" Tooru slumped in her chair.

"Oh, and here I was coming to tell Ishida off for such a preposterous story, but I had to hand it to her. You are rather striking like that, Fuki-kun," an elegant, almost regal voice emanated from above Tooru.

Tooru looked up and saw a tall woman in her mid-to-late thirties with black hair done up in a French braid. Her skirtsuit was not only fitted snugly to her feminine frame, but also screamed high fashion and an equally high expense. She befitted a womanly elegance that bespoke a maturity beyond the other women at the table, but it could hardly be called matronly, particularly given the bold colors, yet light application, of makeup she used to highlight her cheekbones and expressive, if small, eyes. Her expression betrayed only bemusement as she looked down at Tooru.

Tooru's eyes widened and she stood up straight, panic underlying her voice, "Ch-ch-ch-chief Editor Nagano! G-g-g-good evening!"

Chief Editor Nagano lightly touched Tooru's chin and raised it up, tiling it slightly left, then right.

"Hmmm. I have half a mind to put you in Nunnu's Spring fashion collection."

Tooru screamed in horror, "Oh no, please chief! Don't even kid around like that!"

Nagano laughed as she sat down. She waved down a waiter and said, "The J. Rohmer merlot, please."

Tooru sighed as she nursed her beer and groaned, "My life is over isn't it? I only have my job, and now even that'smessed up. At least my cat doesn't make fun of me..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic! Honestly, men are overrated anyways," Erica exclaimed, putting an arm across Yuriko's shoulders and drawing her close.

"This was a lucky break as far as I'm concerned, " Yuriko said, dryly.

"Easy for you to say. I'm never going to find a girlfriend when I look like this half the time."

"Right, cause you were doing so well before," the auburn haired woman replied as Yuriko laughed.

Tooru had no response and merely chugged her beer, grumbling the whole time.

"Tooru-kun," Mari asked, "Did you get in contact with that person you mentioned earlier? Mr. Saotome?"

"Huh? Yeah. Apparently they run some kind of support group. I'll be going there Thursday evening, " she turned to her boss, "That is, if it's okay for me to duck out a bit early to get to Nerima Ward on time. I'll make sure the columns for Cham-Cham are all in place by then."

Chief Editor Nagano nodded as the waiter returned with a lightly chilled glass of red wine, "That's sounds acceptable, Fuki-kun. Now, if you'll indulge my curiosity," she swirled the liquid in the bowl of the glass and took a sip before continuing, "I have a few questions about your... condition."

Tooru slumped her head down, "of course Chief," and grabbed the waiter before he stepped away.

"Double whiskey on the rocks. And keep 'em coming. It's going to be a long night."

_このまま消えても構わないなんて_  
_そんな言葉はもっとズルくなってから言えよ_  
_君が泣いてるのに 僕は何もできなかった_  
_心の中じゃこんなに君を守りたいのに_

_聞こえるかい? 心臓の音 それが命だよ_  
_君の居場所をずっと探しつづけてる 君だけの音_

_忘れないでくれ愛してること 僕は嘘などついてないよ_  
_君の涙飲みほしたら 信じてくれるかい?_  
_美しく光れあなたの全て こんなヤミの世の中だって_  
_君のこと愛したいんだよ わかってくれるかい?_  
_僕は君と夢を見たいんだ_

_If you say things like "If you leave me, I won't mind,"_  
_you should use crueler words._  
_Even though you're crying, I couldn't do anything_  
_Even though I want to protect your heart._

_You hear it? The sound of your heart is life, you know._  
_I'm still searching for your whereabouts, where there's only your sound_

_Loving you without forgetting, I'm not telling lies or anything_  
_If I swallow up your tears, will you believe me?_  
_Because it's a dark world, your everything is shiny and new_  
_I want to love you. You understand?_  
_I want to dream with you._

Sambomaster - "新しく光れ" ("Shiny and New")

Author Notes:

Before anything else, I want to thank the pre-readers on Fukufics who read a very rough version of this and, especially with Bree R's input, it's a much more polished, and expansive story for it.

This is my attempt at a josei comedy series set in, but not at all centered on, the Ranma universe. Expect some martial arts hijinks and cameos here and there, but the focus of the story is Tooru and around his attempts to live and find love in modern Tokyo. My influences (aside from Ranma) are series like _Kuragehime (Princess Jellyfish), Paradise Kiss, Working!, Ugly Betty,_  and _Love My Life_.

I'm also experimenting in scheduled releases. I will attempt a monthly release for this series and, have two more chapters written and a list of content sketched out. There's a lot to mine here, both with the Ranma cast and with Tooru and company. For those wondering, his life does intersect pretty heavily with Ranma's, though our friendly neighborhood martial artist is definitely a supporting character.

Otherwise, things will come as they come, though I'm starting to slowly resolve my plot issues with _Yume Bakari Jyanai Shoujo_. I also plan to re-write the small first chapter of _Hourou Budouka_ and bring it up to my more recent work.

Character Profiles:

 **Tooru Fuki (普喜通)** : 28 years old. Originally from Hiroshima. Editor and writer for several fashion magazines for Bungeisha Publishing. Lives alone with his cat, Chibi. Paints and creates designs he sells as prints or t-shirts in his spare time. Has a younger sister, Amane(遍 or あまね) who is currently in college. Jusenkyo curse victim (Nyaniichuan).

 **Mari Ishida (石田マリ)** : 25 years old. Assistant Editor for Bungeisha Publishing. Grew up in Kita Ward in Tokyo. Is cheerful to a fault and the closest thing Tooru has to a best friend. Likes sweets, cats, and cute clothes. Is a closet fujoshi who, to her embarrassment these days, initially became friends with Tooru because he reminded her of a mix between Asato Tsuzuki and Muraki Kazutaka from YaminoMatsuei .

**_Bungeisha's Fashion Division:_ **

**Chief Editor** : Mayumi Nagano (長野真由美)

 **Editor** : Tooru Fuki (普喜通)

 **Assistant Editor** : Mari Ishida (石田マリ)

 **Layout and Photo Editor** : Yuriko Shinonome (東雲百合子)

 **Graphic and Text Designer** : Erica Alejandra Williams (エリカ・アレハンドゥラ・ウィッリアームズ)

 **Talent Coordinator and Advertising Contact** : Chizuru Kushieda (櫛枝千鶴)

 **Interns** : A-ko and B-ko (A子とB子)

A few cultural and lexical notes:

Tooru's name is something of a joke. Fuki Tooru(普喜 通) is made up of the two characters that mean "normal": 普通 and a character that means happy: 喜. Tooru is neither of the two, unfortunately.

 _Cham-Cham_ , _Snap_!, and _Nunnu_ are takeoffs of _CanCam, Zipper_ , and _Nonno_

Tooru lives in East Ikebukuro, which some otaku will know as the unofficial epicenter of fujoshi (the term usually levied on female otaku which literally means "rotten girl" or 腐女子) subculture. Again, this is something of a joke played at Tooru's expense as well as an excuse to fit in some backstory for his (at times questionable) friendship with Mari.

List of countries and cities which have Jusenkyo support centers:

  * China (Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Xining)
  * Singapore
  * S. Korea (Seoul)
  * Japan (Tokyo, Osaka)
  * United States (Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco)
  * Canada (Toronto, Vancouver)
  * United Kingdon (London)
  * Australia (Melbourne)
  * India (Mumbai, Kolkata)
  * Indonesia (Jakarta)
  * Vietnam (Hanoi)
  * Russia (Moscow)
  * Brazil (Sao Paulo)
  * Mexico (Mexico D.F.)
  * Turkey (Istanbul)



～裏には裏がある

 


	2. Issue 2:  My Name is Tooru, and I'm a Jusenkyo Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hapless cynic finds himself face to face with a capricious fate. Now, facing a new path, he turns to a Grandmaster in order to learn the ropes and deal with the new chaos that follows him. A workplace romantic comedy set in the Ranma Universe.

All was quiet in a certain modest 1LDK apartment in East Ikebukuro as the morning light began to slip under the blinds of Tooru's bedroom. There was no movement aside from that of a small orange and white cat who deftly maneuvered across a plush fullsize-bed, which took up a large amount of space in the narrow bedroom.

The cat slowly made its way up the bed until it stood next to a passed out Tooru, sleeping face down and faintly snoring.

The cat examined its owner, noting the silver head of hair and somewhat different proportions. Even the smell was different, but the cat seemed to be satisfied that the woman it was sitting next to was its owner and, more importantly, the giver of food in the mornings.

At a certain moment, its significance only known to the cat itself, it pounced on top of Tooru's back..

As the force of the sudden weight on her back transferred to her chest, the resultant jolt of pain caused Tooru to open up her eyes suddenly and cry out,

"AH! Chibi!"

Tooru sat up suddenly, tenderly cradling her chest with one arm and her head with her free hand,

The cat sat next to Tooru and meowed a few times as Tooru let out a groan.

"Ooooooooh, my head."

Tooru slowly turned her head to look at the small orange cat sitting on the pillow next to Tooru. She let out an annoyed grunt.

"Must of passed out as soon as I got home..." she muttered weakly before quietly addressing the cat looking up at her.

"Morning Chibi. I guess it's time for your breakfast, huh?"

Chibi, hearing one of the handful of words that excited it, meowed contentedly.

_This_ _must_ _be_ _a_ _test_

_Maybe_ _they_ _are_ _on to_ _me_

_It_ _'_ _s_ _not_ _the_ _way_ _I_ _look_

_My_ _clip_ _on_ _tie_ _and_ _button_ _shirt_

_are_ _all_ _by_ _the_ _book_

_I_ _dot_ _my_ _i_ _'_ _s_ _and_ _cross_ _my_ _t_ _'_ _s_

_and_ _if_ _I_ _cross_ _the_ _line_

_I_ _'_ _m_ _just_ _rehearsing_ _my_ _part_

_If_ _I_ _'_ _m_ _Ophelia_

_then_ _I_ _will_ _put_ _the_

_shake_ _in_ _Shakespeare_

_I_ _get_ _to_ _go_ _mad_

_reviving_ _Ophelia_

_then_ _I_ _will_ _put_ _the_

_ham_ _in_ _Hamlet_ _(..._ _I_ _don_ _'_ _t_ _want_ _to_ _be_ _the_ _understudy_ _)_

_I_ _want_ _to_ _go_ _mad_ _!_

_It_ _'_ _s_ _more_ _than_ _a_ _supporting_ _role_

_in_ _a_ _play_ _that_ _'_ _s_ _being_ _put_ _on_

_by_ _an_ _all_ _boy_ _'_ _s_ _Catholic_ _School_

_It_ _'_ _s_ _cool_ _because_ _I_ _get_ _to_ _go_ _mad_

\- Bitesize

Understudy

Issue Two: My Name is Tooru, and I'm a Jusenkyo Victim

The day before, the office was a maelstrom of activity. Tooru, his chest slightly puffed, stood at the center of the office, moving his arms as though directing traffic,

He looked over at the designer's desks and said, "Yuriko, Erica! Where are we with the galleys for  _Snap_ _!_ "

"Kushieda is getting us the last of the advertisement spreads in an hour!" Erica replied over the din of typing and conversation.

"Tell Kushieda she has 30 minutes!" Tooru turned to his right and looked at the blue-haired assisant editor, "Mari, where are we with the Hong-Kong story for  _Cham_ _-_ _Cham_?"

Mari looked up from her computer and replied, "Freelancer was laid up. The flu."

"Crap. Get in contact with Mei Lin Nishimura. She did the copy for the Fiona Kotur Marin story. If she's not available, let me know and I'll do it seeing as I've been there most recently. Keep on it, though," he grumbled, "These freelancers are killing us with their delays. Even if we're monthlies, doesn't mean we can sit on our asses waiting for them to be inspired."

"Well maybe if they'd hire actual staff instead of foisting it all on the editors, we wouldn't be so vulnerable," Yuriko complained.

Tooru scoffed, "Right, maybe you and Kushieda can magically raise the division's total circulation by 300,000. Then we can talk."

He looked down at two mousy young women, who looked barely out of high school.

"A-ko, B-ko!"

"That's Eiko. I'm Biko," the slightly taller one said, pointing to the shorter of the two.

Tooru nodded at his mistake, "Sorry, my mistake. Look, I need you two to go to the Lawson down the block and get the staff lunch and coffee. May as well give everyone a break today. And be quick about it! I'm collating the _Nunnu_  page proofs for the Chief Editor and one of you is going to be my copy-slave. I'm deciding if flipping a coin or having the two of you fight to the death is a better selection process," he gave a shark-like smile to the two terrified young women, "Now head out!" Tooru barked as they sped off.

Tooru let a low, vaguely sinister laugh escape from his lips, "I love this job some days."

Tooru had good reason. Talk of the curse had died down after the group interrogation at Vinvin the other night, the everpresent deadlines, and the lack of inclement weather following the typhoon. While he was happy to be a benevolent boss, especially since the people under his command were actually competent at their jobs and, the few times he had to be harsh, his own boss was more than happy to be the one the staff took their ire out on, he knew that squeezing out as much productivity as possible.

Suddenly the phone in his office rang. He walked in and picked it up.

"Fuki here. Kushieda? What's going on? I need you- Oh, you have got to be-... Alright... Well, I was going to get the page proofs to that damn Kido today, I may as well make a personal appearance," he hung up the phone, rubbing his forehead and eyeing a bottle of aspirin by his computer.

A few hours later, after leading one of the interns in a now toner-stained outfit to her counterpart, he walked to the Chief Editor's Office, a stack of papers in his hands.

"Chief Nagano. I have the  _Nunnu_ proofs for you. We have an... issue, however. The printer is balking at our magazine format and is asking to increase his rates, now that we're almost out of our old contract."

Chief Nagano smiled, her raised brow displaying the only hint of annoyance, "Figures as much. Remember when Bungeisha still had its own printing facilities and this was a non-issue?"

Tooru nodded as he handed Nagano the proofs, "Indeed, but you know the CFO and his 'cost-effectiveness' rants. I still think it would've been better if they just shut down the weekly news-magazines since they have piss poor circulation and even worse ad revenue."

Nagano raised a finger, before tutting, "Ah, but  _Japan_ _This_ _Week_  and  _News Journal_  are respectable and serious. Not a bunch of magazines aimed at 'frippery' like us."

"Feh. Nothing but kowtowing to the conservatives in the Diet and recycling the same two dozen softball "health and lifestyle" pieces. Mari got that interview with Ai Yamano right as her sex scandal with that member of Parliament hit  _precisely_  because we're 'frippery'."

Nagano put on a pair of reading glasses and began thumbing though the pages, reading through the pages carefully as she spoke.

"Fuki, I am so glad you work for us here. You understand what we do better than most..." she looked up at him, "I've never told you this, but a while ago, when we were first merging, there was pressure to lay you off. You were young, still just a photo editor, and there were those who felt you resented the work because you were a man."

Nagano returned to looking over the proofs as Tooru replied, "Well... I admit, I never saw myself working here back then. However, I'm proud of the work I've been a part of. Everyone here has also been exemplary in their work ethic and I'm happy to be of assistance to you, Chief."

"You know, Fuki, from anyone else, that would come off as brown-nosing. You're too earnest for your own good, sometimes," she noted as she stamped the pages.

Tooru adjusted his tie, "Well, I think, after the events of the past week, I'm pretty sure I've lost what little pride I ever had. I can afford to be honest."

Nagano revealed a thin line of a smile, "Oh don't let those those two get you with their "man-hating" routine. It's all in good fun. Especially given how flustered you were the other night, I would say we've come to the conclusion that, even as a woman, you're still mostly harmless."

Tooru cleared his throat, "I'm not sure how to take that remark, Chief Nagano."

Nagano nodded as she adjusted her reading glasses before returning to the pages in front of her, "Let's say you've been vetted by some of the toughest critics you'll ever come across. I've always said you could stand to lose a bit of that stuffed-shirt attitude of yours."

Tooru narrowed his eyes slightly, "Oh? And what? Replace said stuffed-shirt with an Oscar de la Renta silk blouse, like Mari has planned for me? She's almost frightening when it comes down to it."

Nagano let out a soft laugh, "Yes she is. Despite her hobbies, she has a dangerously encyclopedic knowledge of the industry. I wouldn't be surprised if she already has several lookbooks just for you, Fuki-kun," she joked as she finished stamping the pages, taking delight in her employee's groaning.

Nagano handed the papers back to Tooru, "All right. This looks good. Thank you once again for your hard work. Are you going to deal with the printers today, Fuki-kun?"

Tooru nodded, "Yes, Chief. I'm on my way at the moment."

Tooru turned to leave when Chief Editor Nagano spoke, "Wait a moment, Fuki-kun."

He looked back, "Yes?"

"Fashion Week is next month. However, something has come up on my end with the higher ups in management. I'll need you to attend in my place. Ishida, as well."

Tooru looked a bit nervous, "Are you sure I should attend? I can find one of our regular contributors to attend with Mari."

Nagano shook her head, "No, Fuki-kun, we need someone with authority to represent us and you're the most senior staff after myself. Keep your calendar open and... "

"And?"

Nagano places two fingers under her chin as she seemed to examine Tooru's features, "I was thinking, given how rainy October in Tokyo can get, to bring an umbrella, but I maybe..." her expression grew Chesire Cat-like before responding, "nevermind. We'll have a planning meeting closer to the date. I'll be curious to see how the next few weeks shape up, Fuki-kun."

"Of.. of course, Chief," Tooru said before bowing and walking out of the office.

Tooru walked into the center of the office and spoke, "Okay, I'm headed to speak with our printer. Erica, you're in charge while I'm gone, Mari, I'm gonna need you in case asking nicely doesn't pan out. I can use you as leverage."

"How?"

"You're the best haggler I know. Remember that one Comiket you dragged me to? When you got that stack ofBoy's Love doujinshi for 2000 yen? If you can do that much just for cartoon porn, imagine what you can do when properly motivated," Tooru said, smirking.

"Shh! It's not porn! It's romantic," Mari protested, her face red with embarrassment.

"It's creepy, is what it is." Tooru replied, before waving his hand in front of him, "But nevermind that. I'm pretty sure you can get the printer to see reason."

* * *

As the two emerged from Kasuga Station in nearby Bunkyo Ward they took in the calmer half-residential, half-industrial neighborhood, made up of mostly tall skyscrapers that served as offices or apartment blocks with small convenience stores or newsstands at street level.

Tooru was lost in thought when he felt a slight tugging at his sleeve. He looked down to see Mari smile.

"Tooru-kun," Mari said in a lively voice, "We should hang out this weekend!"

Tooru raised an eyebrow at the blue-haired woman next to him, "Oh? You want me to come along while you and your otaku friends sing anime songs for hours on end? Or do you need me to let you know what songs are actually on the radio these days?"

"You know, you'd be a lot more popular with women if you weren't such a jerk," Mari pouted.

Tooru smiled, "Only to you, Mari. You should know that men always tease their best friends."

She laughed at the remark, "then you won't panic when I tell you I was thinking of taking  _my_  best friend out shopping."

Tooru tilted his head, confused, "Shopping? For what? I just bought new shoes and dress shirts for the fall before I left for China. My mother gave me a new cat bed for Chibi this Ochuugen. And I'm not getting a new smartphone! I don't care if it's three years old."

Mari shook her head, "Tooru, don't avoid the issue. You know you're only half-dressed. You need to get some clothes to match your new self!" she exclaimed.

Tooru was taken aback, "What!? No way. I'm not buying wo-wo-those kinds of things! It's unseemly," Tooru turned away, stifling a blush with a gruff sound.

Mari stuck two fingers in Tooru's field of vision, "Reason two why your relations with women are so poor. You're too much of a fuddy-duddy, Tooru-kun! You have to let loose and not be such a stick in the mud."

Tooru crossed his arms and looked away, affecting coldness, "I like my fuddy-duddyness just fine, thank you. What I currently have on is just fine, even in the  _highly_ unlikely event I get-"

A loud bang could be heard as a fire hydrant, set into the corner of the sky scraper they were walking past, burst, the shiny copper valve flying in front of Tooru, while the pressurized stream of water's aim was true.

Tooru spit out a small stream of water as she walked ahead, the stream slowing down as the built up pressure released and the watter ebbed out of the hydrant at a more reasonable flow. She wrung the water out of her tie, looked down at her shoes, and frowned, "Okay. My shoe polish budget is going to increase dramatically it seems. Thank god, I didn't listen to you and splurge on those Italian loafers."

Mari, who was not at all affected by the torrent of water, smiled.

"You were saying, Tooru-chan?"

"Don't call me that!" Tooru said, inwardly annoyed at how high-pitched the voice became when she yelled.

Tooru took a breath, "Anyway, I need to get some hot water or tea now."

"No time, Tooru. We're here," Mari replied pointing at a nearby building.

"But I can't-" Tooru was interrupted as Mari grabbed her wrist.

"Just let me do the talking. That's why you brought me, right?"

"Fine, just let me dry off a second," Tooru said as, after freeing her arm, she removed her suit jacket and shook the excess water off.

Tooru and Mari walked into Daichi Printers, a medium sized office. The humming of machinery could be heard, though it was mostly copy and fax machines, since the larger printing presses were kept in a warehouse in Saitama Prefecture.

Mari approached the desk and nervously spoke to the receptionist,

"H-hi. My... colleague and I are here on behalf of Bungeisha Publishing's Fashion Division. We had a discussion earlier about our account."

"One second, I'll send out Mr. Kido."

A short, squat looking man appeared from a backroom. He seemed rather nebbish, his thick glasses covered his face, only highlighting the short, thinning hair on top, which seemed greasy with ink or copy toner.

He spoke in a nasal, grating voice, "Yeah, you Kushieda? Don't think I ever talked to you off the phone."

Mari shook her head, "Um, no. My name is Mari Ishida. I'm an Assistant Editor for the division. I'm here with a colleague."

"Hah! That tough broad Nagano decided to play ball, huh? I'm surprised, though. I expected that stick up his ass lapdog of hers to show up and strut around like a jerk."

"What!" Tooru yelled as her jaw dropped in shock.

She recalled the last time he had visited Kido, a few years ago when the initial contracts were being drawn. She had thought the short squat man a bit off-putting. Tooru had been a bit short with him out of frustration over the outsourcing and restructuring within the firm, but Tooru thought he had remained a consummate professional. Mr. Kido however, had apparently remembered those events rather differently.

Tooru protested, "I'm- I mean, he's a very respectful person!"

Kido, scoffed loudly, "Pffft! Yeah right. I'd ask if you were screwing him on the side, but I know he doesn't swing that way."

Tooru's eyes widened, "Of course I do! I mean, he does!"

Kido looked at Tooru strangely, pausing for a moment as he looked her up and down, before guffawing, "How sweet, a woman your age with a schoolgirl crush. But I can tell you, you're wasting your time with that homo, though maybe as mannish as you dress, he might be fooled. I'd try something other than your dad's hand-me-downs, though."

Tooru looked ready to strangle Kido before Mari stepped in, holding Tooru back with an arm.

" _Anyways_ _,_  we'd like to speak with you regarding our contract with your company Mr. Kido," Mari said, looking back nervously.

Kido waved his hand at the blue-haired woman, "It's simple. A twenty percent increase in our current rate, along with a one-time 1 million yen gratuity."

Tooru exclaimed, shocked once more, "Twentypercent!? Why you little-"

"To-chan!" Mari quickly appended and Tooru backed down as she was both shocked by Mari's appelation and regained her countenance.

Mari continued, "Mr. Kido, we understand that inflation and slowing demand have caused your company's costs to increase, but you understand we are in a similar bind. We would rather not have to find another printer."

"Good luck with that, kid. I do the cheapest work for the quantities you order. I'm only asking for some parity with my competitors, as well as an investment for equipment upgrades."

Tooru fumed. She suspected he would just pocket most of that "capital investment" and give them the same quality printing they had always enjoyed. Still he was right about his rates. He thought back to his conversation with Chief Nagano.

"Well, if she really thinks that highly of me," she thought, "I better start acting like it."

Tooru affected a smile she thought was reminiscent of Erica at her most serious and Chief Nagano at her most corporate.

"Mr. Kido. We at Bungeisha Publishing are aware of the severe risks. We know that digital publishing has eaten away at both of our industries for the last decade. However, we also know that, if we work together as allies, we can ensure that print media like our magazines remain an important part of modern life."

Kido looked shocked at the change in attitude the woman in front of him had effected.

Mari piped in, "We can offer an increase of fourteen percent and a capital investment of 1.2 million yen."

"Fourteen isn't twenty."

Tooru nodded, " Yes, however what if we promise a fifteen percent increase in our print orders over the next five years? That should make up the difference, should it not?"

Mr. Kido considered the offer, "Well... you make the one-time payment of 1.5 million and I think we can talk."

"1.4"," Mari corrected.

Kido shrugged, "I see why Nagano sent you, girlie," he turned and looked up at Tooru, "she can teach you a thing or two, young lady."

Tooru thought for sure the vein in her forehead was visibly throbbing, but she forced a polite smile and bowed to Kido.

"I will have Chief Nagano and Ms. Kushieda bring by the papers tomorrow."

Kido began to walk back into his office, "You do that. Don't bring that asshole Fuki around, though. Never could stand a man who thinks he's too good to share a drink and a game of Go with someone."

Tooru began to protest, "Oh come on, I," she paused, realizing Kido was no longer listening.

Mari and Tooru left the printer's office. Tooru was lost in thought, her brow furrowed as she mumbled to herself darkly.

"Tooru-kun?" Mari asked.

Tooru grabbed the sides of her head with her hands, yelling, "ARGH! I can't believe he insulted me to my own face! It's so frustrating!"

* * *

That Thursday evening, Tooru emerged from Nerima Station. As he took in the calmer, less oppressively urban atmosphere of the outer ward, he began thinking upon the last few days.

He strolled down a residential street that paralleled a canal while thinking to himself, "Nice day. Nice neighborhood, too. Definitely good to get out of the office. If it wasn't that snafu with the printer, it was Mari being her insistent self."

He let out a dry laugh as kept thinking, " Hah. 'Half-dressed'. As if I'm gonna flounce about in a Lilly dress for the hell of it. Hell, it isn't like I'll just get splashed that-"

Tooru felt the water hit the side of his head, then dripping down the loose neck of her undershirt.

"Often," she finished the thought as she turned and saw a short, squat middle-aged woman holding a wooden ladle.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" she exclaimed, embarrassed.

"Evidently. What are you even doing?" Tooru asked in near disbelief.

"Oh, my mother used to do this every day to keep down dust from coming into the house. It's also a little bit spiritual for us, you know, purifying the entrance to our home."

Tooru rubbed her head in annoyance, "Well, please be careful. There  _are_  those of us who would rather not be randomly splashed."

The woman laughed and waved a hand, "Oh, you don't have to remind me. My mother used to laugh her head off at the number of times she got Mr. Saotome from down the street."

"I bet," Tooru dryly replied as she kept walking.

Tooru was glad to find a small candy store that was more than happy to give him hot water. The old woman behind the counter chuckled when she had asked, knowing exactly why she needed it. Tooru thanked her and, buying a pack of chewing gum and a pack of Kompeito, walked, once more, towards the Saotome Dojo.

Tooru shook his head recalling yesterday's events. It illustrated to him that, at best, the curse was a nuisance. At worst, it was practically a disability. How was he ever going to live a normal life like this? He had thrown himself into his work just to avoid these kinds of existential dilemmas until today. He had been anticipating the evening since that Monday and hopefully he'd get some answers.

"Let see," Tooru muttered to himself as he looked at his phone, "Should be around here... This it?"

He came across a large open gate. There was a wooden sign above that that read

"Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts - Dojo Entrance".

Tooru sauntered in, hearing the sounds of activity. Sliding open the door to the dojo, he saw something incredible. A young man and woman practically hung in the air as they traded punches and kicks before finally agreeing to gravity's usually unsubtle suggestion and landing in opposite corners of the dojo, before turning around and jumping up, repeating the process.

"Come on, tomboy, keep up. Your blocks are getting sloppy!" The black-haired man said, throwing a series of arm strikes and kicks.

"Hey!," the cobalt-haired woman yelled, "You didn't have Principal Kuno threaten to cut your salary if you didn't feed the crocodiles in the basement jungle! I'm beat!" the woman replied, blocking most every strike, save for a kick that threw her clear to the wall of the dojo.

The man seemingly floated back to the floor and approached the woman quickly.

"You okay?" he said, concern deep in his blue eyes, before it was replaced with surprise as the woman swept his legs and fell back.

"I'm feeling... a bit better now, sweetie," the woman replied between breaths.

The man laughed and sat up, grabbing at his pigtail before speaking, "Okay okay. Sorry 'kane. I guess it's almost time. Let's get the table and chairs set up."

"No need Airen," a petite woman with long purple hair spoke in a jocular voice as she leaned into a tall man with long, flowing black hair, "Musi-honey and I got it set up while you two were giving each other lovetaps."

"Oh, thanks Shanpu," the man replied as he stood and stretched.

"Um... hello?" Tooru called out weakly as he stepped up into the dojo.

"Oh, are you Fuki?" The black-haired man asked.

"Yeah. Tooru Fuki. Nice to meet you Mr. Saotome."

"Please, you can call Pops that," he said pointing a thumb back towards a late middle-aged man in a white dogi, "I'm just Ranma."

"Ah, Ranma then."

Ranma patted Tooru on the shoulder and led him into the middle of the dojo, "Welcome to the group!"

Tooru noticed a warm bustling energy and ease of conversation everyone in the room seemed to have. He thought that it would be off-putting, but they seemed equally friendly towards everyone. He also noticed a small girl, about 140cm in height and almost willowy in build, with short red hair and wearing a white dogi. She seemed to alternately hide behind Ranma's father and peer around him to look at Tooru. For his part, Tooru just stood to one side, taking in the activity. He smiled at the young girl, though when he did so, she hid her face again.

A few minutes later, after the chairs were arranged in a circle in the center of the dojo, everyone sat down, except for Ranma who stood in front of his chair as he led the group.

"Evening everyone. As almost all of you know, my name is Ranma Saotome. I'm the President of the Tokyo Chapter of the Jusenkyo Support Center. The Support Center is a non-profit organization here to help out any Jusenkyo victims in their professional or personal lives. I don't get a lot of money out if it, I like helping people out and we're all intimately familiar with just how much of a pain in the butt a curse can be if you're not careful."

Tooru looked around seeing knowing nods and sympathetic sighs as Ranma continued, "In my regular life," Ranma paused as that phrase received several snickers, " I run this Martial Arts School and do some freelance work for the local police department and the town council." He sat down the and short blue/black haired woman stood and spoke.

"I'm Akane Saotome. I teach here at the school, but I mainly teach physical education at the local high school. I assist my husband on some of the other work, but I spend my free time looking after our children, Kenta and Ryuuji."

A tall man in a white robe, long black hair, and glasses stood, "I'm Musi, or Mousse if it's easier to say. I'm originally from China, though I've lived here for about 15 years now. I run a restaurant along with my wife, Shanpu as well as raise my two sons."

A young woman in a silk floral top and capri pants stood, "I'm Shanpu or Shampoo. I'm also from Nujiezu in China, but lived here in Tokyo since I was a teenager. I run the Nekohanten with Musi. He's the head chef and I handle the books. Louxian and Xiadou are enough of a handful that I'm happy Musi's a good father, " she grabbed Mousse's hand and the two sat down at the same time.

A man, broad shouldered with short black hair held in place by a yellow bandana spoke, "Hi. I'm Ryouga Hibiki. I don't live around here exactly, but I pop by in once in a while, mostly to spar with the boy-girl here," he pointed to Ranma, smiling, "I help my wife on her farm. She raises pigs."

"She sure does, P-chan," Ranma shot back with a similar grin.

"Hey, don't be mean!" Akane shouted, "I made sure he was a polite and respectable pig before he met Akari, after all. Not to mention an object lesson in disclosure and honesty..." Akane said, trailing off with a mischievous smile aimed at Ryouga, which caused him to look away a bit and bite his lip as Tooru noted her otherwise light-hearted expression grew an edge as the corner of her mouth moved up turning a knowing smile into something of a shark-like grin.

The middle-aged man stood, "I'm Saotome Genma. My son runs this school. I assist him in teaching beginner and intermediate students the martial arts, but I'm mostly retired these days," he bowed and sat back down.

The little red haired girl who was seated between Genma and Ranma, stood up and spoke, "I'm Kenta. I'm 10. I was born like this, but I'm really a boy, honest. Dumb Ryuuji got me after school with a water balloon and Pop said I should practice like this, since right now I'm taller as a girl," she looked up at Ranma expectantly, "Pop, can I go play with Louxian and Xiadou?"

Ranma nodded, ruffling the girl's short hair, "Sure kiddo. But I don't want your grandmother telling me the three of you beat up your little brother. If you want revenge, at least be creative about it," Ranma said with a wink as the girl stood, gave her father an almost devious smirk in return, and ran off as Akane rolled her eyes muttering, "Just like his father."

Ranma looked around before continuing, "Well... looks like this is it for the group today. We have about 50 people on the books as Jusenkyo victims here in Kanto and parts north. The Kansai office in Osaka has about 30 on the books in Western Honshu, Kyushu, Shikoku, and Okinawa, but we don't hear from them too much. Even still we usually only get about 10 or less people showing up to any given meeting. The gang here today's been around since we started and we're all old friends, but we love having new people around. Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

Tooru straightened himself as he stood from his chair, "Um... all right. My name is Tooru Fuki. I'm 28. I'm from Hiroshima originally, but I live in East Ikebukuro in Toshima Ward. I'm an editor for a couple of women's fashion and lifestyle magazines. I have a cat named Chibi and... I guess that's it. I don't know a lot of people outside of work. Truthfully, I went to China last week for my vacation. I wanted to try and figure out how to have a more meaningful life outside of work. I just never expected..." Tooru slumped back down on his chair, putting his head down in his hands.

Ranma stood up and touched Tooru's shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay. I know it's a lot to take in," Ranma said, "We all have our issues with the curse. One way that I find helps is to really show you you're not alone. Why don't we show you?" Ranma looked up, "That okay, guys?" Everyone nodded and stood, grabbing plastic cups from a small table placed to the side. One by one, they doused themselves and made their way back towards the center of the room.

Even knowing what was going on, Tooru was floored. Before him stood a married couple where man and wife had previously been wife and husband. In front of them were a small black piglet wearing a yellow bandana on its neck, a white and lavender cat, and a white duck with glasses. Towering over them all was a large panda.

Tooru let the image seep in for a moment before the woman spoke.

"See? It's a little weird, but it ain't too bad, Fuki."

Tooru wasn't freaked out so much as utterly terrified. Had he been inculcated in some sort of curse cult? What was he going to do? How could that guy smile and brush off turning into a little china doll of a woman and his wife... that towering samurai of a wife. Let alone the others who weren't even human. He felt his heart beat faster and faster and was certain he would start screaming any moment.

"Excuse me! I'm sorry, Ranma, I was running late," a young woman's voice emerged from the Dojo entrance. As the door slid open, Ranma turned and smiled.

"Kanako-chan! How are you!" Ranma ran up and hugged her, "No you ain't that late. We got a live one here and he's just taking it all in."

"Oh really?"

Tooru stood and his eyes widened. The woman before his was tall, yet extremely lithe. She wore a long, flowing white sundress and straw hat, the last vestiges of summerwear in early September. She let the waves of chocolate-brown hair flow loosely down to her mid-back and her bangs framed her long oval face, which was lightly made up to accent her large green eyes. She seemed to exude a tranquility that brought Tooru back from the brink of manic, wide-eyed terror. Tooru's mouth became dry as he tried to speak.

"Y-you're Kanako Kaneshima."

The woman, confused, nodded hesitantly, "Um... Yes, I am."

Tooru cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, "Ah, forgive me! My name is Tooru Fuki. I'm an editor at  _Nunnu_  and  _Cham_ _-_ _Cham_. We use your agency a lot for our spreads. I recognize you from some of the articles we've run the last six months."

"Oh, I see. Nice to meet you Mr. Fuki. Are you cursed as well? If I can ask, what do you turn into?"

Tooru blinked at the straightforwardness of the question. He look around nervously, stumbling on his words, "Well, that is...I-"

Tooru felt the splash of water before he could finish. She turned back to see Ranma give her a puckish grin.

"There ya go! Don't need to have a complex over it," Ranma said, in a playful tone.

Akane walked up and scolded his husband, his hand hitting Ranma on the back of her head, "Ranma! Be reasonable. He's barely had his curse for a week! And look! You hit Kanako, too!"

"Sorry Kana-chan," Ranma said, rubbing the back of her head.

Tooru now looked to her left, The sundress, now loosely draped like a wedding veil came down over the transformed Kanako. In her place was a large white trumpeter swan who flapped its wings in a frustrated manner, honking at the red-haired girl.

Tooru fell back, her legs giving out as she collapsed on the floor. The only feeling she had was a desire to black out, to faint, to forget anything had ever happened, but... she couldn't, the image of a cat and a well-built, tall-figured man leading a swan away from the dojo towards the adjacent house was burned into her mind. She turned to look at Ranma as she lightly conversed and sparred with the piglet, panda, and duck with joyful ease, even when the duck had produced throwing knives from its wings.

Tooru felt pressure in her ears, as though she was tens of meters below the sea. The sounds around her became an indistinct muddle, save for the red-haired woman's voice, which was a sonorous counterpoint to the other noises, but still difficult to make out. Tooru looked back down at her hands and their long, tapering fingers, feeling a small measure of relief as she finally began to tear up.

After a moment, Tooru heard Ranma's voice over the ringing in her head.

"Are you all right, Fuki?"

Tooru yelled out, her tears turning into outright sobbing, "Of course not! I feel worse than when I came in! How did you even get this position? You're the worst counselor ever! I'm a certifiable freak, Saotome! I'm practically a monster and I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life because of it!"

Ranma held a hand up, and waved the others away, the three animal-cursed men exiting the dojo, leaving the two Nyaniichuan-cursed individuals alone. Ranma looked at Tooru with a sympathetic expression, unsure of what to do until, with a smirk across her face, she lifted Tooru up by the collar, until, Ranma's arm extended over her head, she was upright.

"Fuki, get a fuckin' grip!"

With the suddenness of a gunshot, Ranma cocked her fist and swung, socking Tooru in the cheek. The force of the martial artist's blow sent the distraught magazine editor clear across the room, the wall on the far side of the room stopping the sudden acceleration with a loud thump as Tooru slid down, collapsed onto the floor.

"Crap, I think I overdid it," Ranma muttered, rubbing the back of her head.

After a moment, Tooru sat up, dazed.

Holding her face tenderly, she softly spoke, "What was that for!? I could press charges, you know!"

Ranma visibly sighed in relief and smiled as she stood over Tooru, "Sorry, Fuki. But I knew you could take it. You're a man, ain't ya?"

Tooru looked down, feeling defeated, "I... I don't know anymore. It's up for debate now."

Ranma approached Tooru and kneeled down, hugging the disoriented woman.

"You will. You have to accept it happened first. You can't wallow in grief or denial."

Tooru began to tear up, "What if I feel like it? I've been trying so hard not to be upset. I've always kept everything to myself. You know the morning I got back, I went straight to work? With a shitty umbrella and less than 4 hours of sleep. I'm trying so hard to act like it doesn't bother me, but look at me! It's only just sinking in that I'm a freak of nature, you know."

Ranma shook her head, "Hey, hey. None of that. None of us here are freaks... not 'cause of Jusenkyo, anyways. I'm sure most people'll tell you I'm a weirdo for about a dozen other reasons besides," she giggled. "Look, I'm sorry if this was too much too soon, but I've always found that, when faced with a new situation, it's best to dive in headfirst and worry about the consequences as they come. My school's all about adopting, adapting, and improving. It's a good policy, in my experience."

Tooru sniffled and wiped her eyes, "Maybe... but you've had a long time to come to terms with it right? What the hell am I going to do?"

Ranma chuckled a bit as she shook her head and sat down next to Tooru, "Nah, I spent most of it in denial, thinking I could get cured or that it was just a ridiculous disguise I could use like some people use a pair of cheap glasses and a fake mustache."

Ranma face grew serious, and she clutched her left arm with her right hand as she looked away from Tooru, " I never told anybody this, but for a long while, I was actually scared shitless that being cursed to turn into a woman meant that I couldn't be a son, a husband, or a father. I was also kinda worried I was going to turn into some kind of stereotype of what I thought a woman was. Believe me Fuki, I went through some shit. A lot of it alone, cause it's different when you change sex rather than become an animal."

Ranma grabbed Tooru's hand and helped her up, "I get that impulse of wantin' to keep your cards close to your chest. Believe me, Fuki. There've been times where I absolutely hated it, even when I acted like it didn't bother me. There were a lot of years and I almost burned some bridges I needed over it. What I'm saying is that, I don't wanna see someone else make those mistakes. It's just senseless, ya know?"

Tooru nodded, "Okay. I think I understand. I don't have to like it, though. How do you do it? You seem so goddamn carefree."

Ranma smiled impishly, "Lots of practice. If you'd like, come on over this Sunday and I can show you the ropes. I went through it alone, but you don't hafta. Seriously, if you gotta friend or anybody you can confide in, it'll help."

Ranma led Tooru towards a folding table set up with a cheap white tablecloth and various trays of Chinese food. Tooru poured herself a glass of cold barley tea.

Ranma sheepish whispered as she grabbed a paper plate and began filling it with various noodle dishes, "Actually, I was kinda fibbing earlier. I was half-scared I almost killed you. How does a white-collar wimp like you take an Anything Goes punch to the face? Uh... no offense."

"Ah, none taken. I was captain of the kendo and karate clubs in High School. My father made sure I could take a hit. I still have half a mind to press charges, you bastard."

Ranma blinked, "Hah! Figures. Maybe you should come to my classes sometime. I'll even give ya a Jusenkyo discount!" she laughed, "One of the things you're gonna wanna do is spend some time like that and figure out how different that body moves from your regular one. Maybe grab some clothes for it."

Tooru rolled her eyes, "Ugh, that again. You know my best friend at work is threatening to buy me a whole new wardrobe? And my boss threatened to put me in next month's magazine!"

Ranma looked at Tooru closely, fingers supporting her chin as she studied the silver-haired woman.

"Hmm... I can see that. You have the height and the figure for it. Hell, most women'd kill for those cheekbones. Sounds like a chance for easy money."

"I'm not a woman," Tooru retorted.

"Yeah?" Ranma countered, "I ain't one, either. You should see the kinds of photo spreads I did in college. Granted, I was payin' off a ton of debt then and my sister in-law had me by the you know wheres," she said pointing downwards, "well, when they're there at least. But the point still stands. It's all in good fun, after all."

Tooru looked at Ranma incredulously, "All in good fun, you say? You're a strange man, Mr. Saotome."

"More than you know," Ranma countered as she stuffed her mouth with a generous helping of noodles and then, with a swallow, continued, "You know the Nyaniichuan curse doesn't magically warp your mind or nothin', but it still does a number on the noggin. You'll manage, though. Actually, I think you're the first Nyaniichuan victim since me. Well the first accidental one, anyway," Ranma corrected herself.

Tooru nodded, "Yeah, the guide's father said something about that... what did he mean?"

"Apparently, there's a group of transsexual men and women who've been booking passage to Western China specifically to get Nyaniichuan or Nanniichuan water."

Tooru tilted her head, "Huh. I can see that," after a pause, she blinked and continued, "Wait a minute, Nanniichuan? Like 'Spring of Drowned Man'? Is that what your wife has?"

"You got it," Ranma said as she took a second paper plate and placed some small appetizers on it.

Tooru nodded, but stopped suddenly, "Wait. If there's a Spring of Drowned Man, why can't you use it to cure yourself?"

Ranma looked up at the ceiling and let out a laugh, "Hah! Amateurs."

Tooru looked upset, "What do you mean?"

Ranma shook her head, "It don't work that way, Fuki. You gotta-"

The door suddenly slid open and three women, two of them in bathrobes, emerged.

"Oh, hey sweetie, " Ranma said as she put her plates down and bounded away from Tooru. She approached Akane, kissed her lightly on the cheek and then turned to Kanako, bowing deeply.

"Sorry about that Kana-chan.. Fuki's still self-conscious about his curse. I was trying to cheer him up and make him feel like he wasn't alone."

The young woman nodded at Ranma, smiling and rolling her eyes as though the formidable martial artist was a ten-year old up to mischief. She then walked up to Tooru and looked at her for a long moment. Finally she said, "Mr. Fuki... Goodness, it, it..."

Tooru gulped as she waited for her to finish speaking. The warm feeling he felt before came back as he looked into her face.

"It really suits you!" She exclaimed, smiling.

"Art school all over again," was the only thought that went through Tooru's mind as she fell over, having finally, blissfully lost consciousness.

* * *

Tooru sat on the train, her tie loosened and thoughts swimming. She had just left from meeting the strangest people she'd ever willingly introduced herself to. They seemed to revel in insanity and improbability in a way she'd never conceived possible. It had all been almost too much for her to take until she met Kanako Kaneshima. It was plain as day she was beautiful. After all, Tooru had spent late nights at work with Erica and Yuriko laying out her photos alongside article text in the magazine too many times to not notice. But in real life, there was this tranquility and peace she radiated that, in a capricious manner, seemed to mesh with her cursed form.

Tooru began wondering if there wasn't some kind of synergy at work with Jusenkyo, but quickly derailed that train of thought as soon as she thought of the implications on herself. Particularly given Kanako's evaluation of her cursed form, which  _had_ been too much to take, and had left Tooru senseless for about half an hour. When she came to, the meeting ended and Ranma led Tooru back to the station without giving her hot water, saying, "Give it a shot, Fuki," before astounding Tooru by bounding back home, via the roofs of the suburban houses.

Now, seated alone on the train back to Ikebukuro, she loosened her tie out of habit. "Still..." Tooru reasoned to herself, "it was nice to meet new people and live a little. Even if they're all insane besides Kaneshima."

"Hey there..." a voice next to her said, breaking her concentration. Tooru sighed. This was one of his biggest fears since gaining the curse. It was bad enough when the occasional guy would come on to him as a guy, why did he have to get hit on by...

"Do you live around here?" the voice asked in a sultry contralto and Tooru realized it had been a woman talking to her... a beautiful woman. More than that. She was flirting!

Tooru took a moment to drink her in. Her hair was deep black, even moreso than Tooru's regular hair color, and cut into a shaggy mop that was an exercise in deliberate unkemptness. Her otherwise normal brown eyes seemed to radiate with assertiveness that gave her soft-featured face an sharp intensity. She wore a dark grey t-shirt with the collar and sleeves ripped off, which highlighted her toned arms, and the tight black tank top she wore underneath. She wore fashionably distressed men's jeans and black Chucks. Tooru was amazed and disarmed by the type of strength and swagger the woman carried herself with and Tooru found herself struggling to respond.

"Well, I guess, um, in some ways, I'm new in town. I live in Toshima ward, though," Tooru replied nervously, feeling her face heat up.

The woman smiled and cocked her head up, "Well, maybe we can hang out sometime? I'm Emi," the woman handed Tooru a scrap of paper. Before Tooru could open it, the train began to slow as it approached the station. The woman stood and walked towards the exit door.

Just before the doors opened, Tooru exclaimed, "T-Tooru! My name's Tooru!"

The woman turned back, smiled, and winked before walking out of the train.

Tooru opened the paper to see a phone number and an email address.

"Holy shit. That's never..." Tooru muttered to herself before the realization washed over her, "She hit on me because I look like a woman."

Tooru slumped back in her seat.

"My life is hell!" she moaned as the train made its way towards home.

このまま消えても構わないなんて  
そんな言葉はもっとズルくなってから言えよ  
君が泣いてるのに 僕は何もできなかった  
心の中じゃこんなに君を守りたいのに

聞こえるかい? 心臓の音 それが命だよ  
君の居場所をずっと探しつづけてる 君だけの音

忘れないでくれ愛してること 僕はどこにも行かないよ  
君の涙飲みほしたら わかってくれるかい?  
新しく光れあなたの全て こんなヤミの世の中だって  
君のこと愛したいんだよ 信じてくれるかい?  
僕は君とわかち合いたいんだ

_If you say things like "I don't care if you leave me,"_  
_you should use crueler words._  
_Even though you're crying, I couldn't do anything_  
_Even though I want to protect your heart._

_You hear it? The sound of your heart is life, you know._  
_I'm still searching for your whereabouts, where there's only your sound_

_Loving you without forgetting, I'm not telling lies or anything_  
_If I swallow up your tears, will you believe me?_  
_Because it's such a dark world, your everything is shiny and new_  
_I want to love you. You understand?_  
_I want to dream with you._

Sambomaster - "新しく光れ" ("Shiny and New")

* * *

Character Profiles:

 **Ranma** **Saotome** **(** **早乙女乱馬** **)** : 31 years old. Master of Anything Goes Martial Arts. Runs the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts and Instructs advanced students. President of the Tokyo chapter of the Jusenkyo Support Center. Parent to two children (Kenta and Ryuuji). Has a Jusenkyo Curse (Nyaniichuan)

 **Akane** **Saotome** **(** **早乙女あかね** **)** : 31 years old. Advanced Practitioner of Anything Goes Martial Arts. Instructs Intermediate and Advanced Students. Works as Furinkan High's gym teacher and coach for the women's karate and judo teams. Parent to two children (Kenta and Ryuuji). Has a Jusenkyo curse (Nanniichuan).

 **Mayumi** **Nagano** **(** **長野真由美** **):**  42 years old. Chief Editor of Bungeisha's Fashion Division. Business savvy and adroit with her superiors in upper management, but loyal to her employees and surprisingly down to earth. A model in her teens and twenties, she left the industry to be a writer, and later, editor for  _Nunnu_ _._ Usually dresses very smartly in sophisticated skirt-suits or simple, but well-cut dress/blazer combos.

 **Kanako** **Kaneshima** **(** **鐘島歌夏子** **)** : 23 Years old. Veteran model for the Bella Modeling Agency in Tokyo. She has worked as a fashion, magazine, and commercial model since the age of 14. She is slowly working her way up the industry to enter a management position once her career ends in about five to ten years. She is very kind, but a bit naive sometimes. Originally from Aomori, but worked hard to pick up the Kanto dialect for work. Has a Jusenkyo Curse (Tian'eNiichuan) from a family vacation gone horribly wrong.

Cultural and lexical notes:

 **Fiona** **Kotur** **Marin** , originally from New York, is a clutch purse and handbag designer based in Hong Kong.

A  **lookbook** , generally, is a collection of photographs compiled to show off a model, a photographer, a style, or a clothing line. It may also refer to , a site for easily making lookbooks from various easily available prêt-à-porter/RTW clothing.

 **Ochuugen** , along with Oseibo, are two Japanese holidays which are focused on giving presents (typically food, soap, alcohol, or other small gifts) to friends, family, and co-workers. Ochuugen happens in July (typically July 15th) and Oseibo happens in December.

 **Kompeito**  is a old-fashioned Japanese candy. It's basically tiny hard candies that are shaped like stars. They are very cute and delicious.

General Notes:

To start: HUGE HUGE thanks to Bree R and tuatara for beta reading. Couldn't have done it without either of you. No joke.

More nonsense here for this, unsurprisingly in retrospect, unpopular story. That said, I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Writing the characters has been pretty easy and breezy and I'll pretty much work on this as long as I'm invested in the characters and the story. I'm liking Tooru's guarded put-uponess (He gets more emotive as time goes on and his stoic, unapproachble front slowly erodes) and the open, direct Ranma interacting. I'm also liking the love quadrangle I'm trying to set up here. Tooru won't find himself inculcated into Ranma's world so much as the chaas that finds Ranma will seep its way into Tooru's life. Not for any mystical reason, just the whims of fate (and whatever is funny. I definitely believe in the "coincidences which get the character in trouble are good" rule).

As an aside, I wanted to recommend two series you should be watching/reading if you like this series. I didn't find out about them until I began the project, but both have a very close affinity with what I'm trying to do.

 _Hataraki_ _-_ _man_ _(_ _働きマン_ _)_  is a manga about a woman who works as an editor for a news magazine. I found out about the show about a day after I published chapter one and I've been obsessively watching the anime and the drama.

The second is  _Sekine_ _'_ _s_ _Love_ _(_ _関根くんの恋_ _)_ , a manga series published in  _Manga_ _Erotics_ _F_  (and translated by JManga) that's about an office worker who is seen as very handsome, but unapproachable and boring. He takes up knitting to pass the time and becomes involved in trying to resolved an unrequited love he thought he had put away in the past and becomes involved in a love triangle of sorts with his best friend's wife and a young woman who runs a handicrafts store. The main character's almost exactly how I envision Tooru to look like and, in certain ways, emotional state. It's a certain type the only match I had when I started was Shuu from  _Kuragehime_.


	3. Issue 3: Therapy and Other Forms of Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hapless cynic finds himself face to face with a capricious fate. Now, facing a new path, he turns to a Grandmaster in order to learn the ropes and deal with the new chaos that follows him. A workplace romantic comedy set in the Ranma Universe.

The morning after his harrowing encounter with the Jusenkyo Support Center, Tooru took advantage of the clear, sunny day and went for an early morning run along the narrow residential streets of East Ikebukuro, lined with small two or three story apartment blocks which were beginning to come to life as the early morning light began to shine and warm up the air. Tooru jogged a rough loop around the neighborhood until he reached a public park south of his apartment.

He enjoyed the temperate weather and the early morning air as it whipped past him, leaving Tooru alone with only the quiet of the morning and his thoughts to occupy him.

He had been mulling over his encounters over the last week or so, thinking back to Ranma's admonition.

_"It's best ta dive in head first and worry about the consequences as they come."_

Tooru shook his head as he internally countered, "What a bunch of irresponsible nonsense. How can you  _not_  worry about the consequences? Hell, worrying is what I do best." As he approached the park, he took a big breath and, stretching his long arms over his head, said aloud, "Been too long. I needed that."

He found a water fountain and, carefully and slowly, with the precision of a bomb squad member and the gentle confidence of a snake handler, he gently pushed on the lever and, with a sigh of relief, drank the cool, moderately flowing liquid.

"Hah! I got this! No one's gonna get the best of-" Tooru thought to himself before being interrupted by an errant soccer ball which hit the back of his head, knocking his head into the flow of water.

"Sorry! Are you okay... miss?" A boy around middle school age ran over and stopped when he came across Tooru.

Tooru sighed and muttered, "I've been better." Tooru, with a strong kickflip, launched the ball in the air. Instead of catching it, however, the ball bounced off into the ground just left of Tooru. Flustered, she bent over at the waist, picked up the ball, and tossed it back to the boy.

The boy stared blankly at Tooru almost dropping the ball thrown at him. His face turned a deep shade of red as he spoke, "Uh, thank you, miss... I, uh.." he trailed off and began smiling stupidly.

Tooru was confused until she looked down. She realized the white t-shirt she had put on prior to her run was, after both sweat and an impromptu shower by the drinking fountain, made certain anatomical features, namely her modest chest, rather apparent. Tooru quickly covered her chest, growing red, and shouted angrily, raising a fist.

"Get out of here you little perv!"

The boy took off like a shot, his laughter echoing down the street as Tooru wondered how the hell she was going to make it home, dignity intact.

_This must be a test_

_Maybe they are on to me_

_It's not the way I look_

_My clip on tie and button shirt_

_are all by the book_

_I dot my i's and cross my t's_

_and if I cross the line_

_I'm just rehearsing my part_

_If I'm Ophelia_

_then I will put the_

_shake in Shakespeare_

_I get to go mad_

_reviving Ophelia_

_then I will put the_

_ham in Hamlet (...I don't want to be the understudy)_

_I want to go mad!_

_It's more than a supporting role_

_in a play that's being put on_

_by an all boy's Catholic School_

_It's cool because I get to go mad_

\- Bitesize

Understudy

Issue Three: Occupational Therapy and Other Forms of Humiliation

Menkui Ramen was a relic. Its interior design, with ancient lacquered tables, large boilers, and hand-carved wooden signs on the wall advertising the menu, not to mention the low prices, seemed to invoke an otherworldly nostalgia for pre-bubble Japan, particularly in trendy Chiyoda Ward.

Tooru had a sour expression as he took a long slurp from his ramen. Mari turned to him.

"Oh come on, Tooru-kun. I mean I bet you would have done the same thing at his age."

"I'd like to think not, but... still, it's the principle of the thing, little perv." Tooru fumed as he idly played with a piece of boiled egg floating in his soup.

Tooru looked around at the busy, but not overwhelming, crowd inside the restaurant. In one corner, a group of salarymen were quickly slurping down soup while talking shop. Near the front entrance, a gaggle of young OLs practicing office politics. An older man, sitting in the corner of the counter by the vats of hot water and broth, read the paper and occasionally chatted with the proprietor. Waitresses came by to fill drinks and make polite conversation. He looked back at his own meal and the small table he was sharing with his co-worker, who was quickly slurping up noodles with no small amount of satisfaction, gulping them down and uttering a contented sigh. Tooru was amused with the childishness of the whole act, marveling at the seeming contradiction in the focus, clarity, and depth of knowledge she displayed in the office and the easy-going, immature self she had elsewhere.

Mari picked up a gyoza and placed it in her mouth. Still chewing she quickly asked, "So what was he like? Mr. Saotome, I mean?"

Tooru blinked, momentarily thrown by the question as he was eating himself. He wiped his face with a napkin, before tilting his head in thought "Well aside from the fact he has the same affliction..." Tooru hesitated, "Have you ever met someone who seemed like he could be an insufferable asshole, but instead was one of the nicest people you've ever met?"

Mari shook her head, "Unfortunately, I only seem to meet people who are just the former." Mari ate a piece of fish sausage before continuing, "Still, sounds like a keeper to me. Is he single?" Mari asked in a playful voice, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Tooru responded dryly, "Only in your doujinshi fantasies, Mari. Even if I was that way, he's married with kids."

Mari rolled her eyes as she picked up her chopsticks, "Trust me, Tooru-kun. That doesn't mean anything. You never know, especially if he's like you," she said, pointing the back of her chopsticks at Tooru.

Tooru set his spoon down, irritated, "What do you mean 'like me'? What are you even implying?" Mari began giggling, causing Tooru to groan. He took a breath, then brushed Mari off with a wave of his hand, "You always know how to get a rise out of me. Anyways, even  _if_ , he was all lovey dovey with his wife. pretty amazing since they're barely in their thirties and already married for about a decade."

"Aww... how romantic," Mari said, pleasantly surprised.

Tooru shrugged, taking a sip of broth, "I suppose it is... Saotome, though, he's a bundle of contradictions. On the one hand, He's this loud, obnoxious man's man. My dad would love to have a beer with him. On the other hand, he's cuter than most of my old girlfriends. It starts frying your brain if you think about it too long. His wife is a little like that, but backwards, I guess? I think she was the only guy there who about as tall as I am... Ow, my brain. Anyway, he offered to help me out Saturday. Something about 'field training' or something."

Mari laughed a bit then, after popping a gyoza into her mouth, replied, "Wow! I can't wait to meet him!"

Tooru put a hand to his head, feeling pressure around his temples and the beginnings of a headache approaching. "Meet? What are you talking about?"

"Sure you did... that's who you were talking about this morning in the breakroom. You said you were meeting up with someone on Saturday."

"I said no such thing. I... You read my text messages again didn't you?"

Mari twirled a strand of blue hair, "Technically, no."

"But you distracted me long enough to let Yuriko do it, right?" Tooru opened his mouth suddenly, "Ah! That's why you were going on and on about the copy for the winter coats piece for 15 minutes, even though we've already okayed it."

Mari, caught in a lie, twiddled her fingers, "W-well, we wouldn't know anything about you otherwise and you're too much fun to leave alone."

Tooru responded evenly, "It's invasion of privacy, Mari."

Mari countered, saying, "It's not like I do it all the time. Nobody texts you anyway, except that bratty little sister of yours."

"That's not the point!" Tooru replied.

Mari rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, pouting, "Well, okay, I'm sorry. I did want to hang out with you, anyways. Can I tag along with you, Tooru-kun? Please!"

Tooru held his forehead, but nodded, "Okay, okay... jeez, don't act like such a kid. Though I wonder if you only want to go just because 'Tooru-chan' is making an appearance."

Mari looked at Tooru while he returned to drinking spoonfuls of dark, soy-flavored broth.

"Sorry, Tooru" Mari said softly.

"Huh?" Tooru looked up.

Mari clarified, "For looking at your phone. I should know better than to snoop around like a stalker. But you're always so quiet about everything. You're my best friend, you know."

Tooru raised an eyebrow, "Really? Not your fellow fujoshi? What about that online messageboard I see you writing on your phone during lunch breaks or on the train?"

Mari snickered, "Nah, those hikikkomori don't hold a candle to you, even if you sometimes have all the personality and sociability of wet sand."

Tooru nodded, "I'll take that as a compliment. Well, I must say you're not so annoying, even when you're drunkenly singing anime music from the 90s while I sit there figuring out how twisted your childhood must have been."

"Oh, You know you love it when I sing the  _Fushigi Yuugi_  opening," Mari countered, giggling as Tooru rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Hey!" Mari said, her disposition suddenly changing, "How do you know about  _BL Chat_? You've been looking at my phone, too!"

Tooru shook his head, "Not on purpose. I can't help that you don't even come up to my collarbone when we're standing. It's easy to see what your looking at when you're on your phone."

Mari nodded in understanding, but blushed as Tooru added, "I'd also consider changing your wallpaper to something other than a some mostly naked anime character."

"It's not  _some_ anime character! It's France!" she replied.

"What?"

"Oh, nevermind, Tooru-kun," Mari said huffing as she returned to her soup.

* * *

Friday Night, Tooru cursed softly in an annoyed, high-pitched voice.

"Damn it! That's the fifth one today," she muttered as she picked up a pencil, its point broken off.

Tooru sat at a drawing table set up in the space formally labeled on the floor plan of her apartment as a 'Dining Area'. The space was taken up by said table, a small desk with a computer, a metal shelf stocked with with pencils, paper, paints, and brushes, and an easel, folded up and leaning against the shelf, along with a drop cloth.

On a large sheet of thick white paper, Tooru was sketching a phoenix. The questionably mythical creature's wingspan took up most of the paper. Tooru's had a look of fine concentration, cursing as the pencil she was holding once again slipped.

"Stupid hands. I'm all thumbs," she lamented, resharpening the wiped the thin sheen of sweat from her forehead she went back to the meticulously drawn sketch, making thin lines as she began adding details to the phoenix's feathers. Tooru thought upon the creature and the stories she had heard about them on the trip to China. When she was in China, Tooru had the idea of drawing something reminiscent of one of the Four Great Classical Novels of China, such as  _Journey to the West_  or  _Dream of the Red Chamber._ Instead, when she made it home, what came to her was half-remembered from the day after her fateful tumble into Jusenkyo.

She recalled the small village in Qinghai province Plum took Tooru to the day after she was cursed. There were, thankfully, more than a few villagers who spoke passable Japanese, in particular an almost grotesquely shriveled old woman who had, until some years back, lived in Tokyo. The village was a bit old-fashioned in some ways, running on mostly diesel generators and well water. However the houses were fairly sturdy, and there was satellite television and internet. If it wasn't for the massive hangover and the fact Plum had all but forced Tooru to come as female, the pastoral homeyness would have made up for the grueling hike the day before.

Tooru distinctly remembered the old woman telling her to count his stars that Plum was a more thorough and communicative guide than her father as she allowed Tooru to lie down on a small bed. The old woman had mentioned, with long slow chuckles, the last Nyaniichuan victim to pass by had caused more than a few headaches involving their byzantine death and marriage laws and her grandchildren in particular. Tooru nodded, not quite understanding the details amidst the confusion of being in a new place, the splitting headache, and the unfamiliar body.

The old woman entertained herself telling Tooru many fantasic-sounding stories while smoking her pipe. Tooru was unsure why so many of the stories in question took place in Tokyo when they were in Western China. She told the hungover Tooru tales of spells, pressure point techniques, and other curses, but it was all muddled until she described the Phoenix Tribe and how the boy turned girl had fought the Phoenix Lord for his life and his fiancée's. The details the old woman gave Tooru of that battle where what inspired her to want to sketch the current drawing. She remembered the story the old woman had told her in the small house she lived in while Tooru was recovering for her alcohol-infused haze.

_"The Phoenix Lord Saffron's wings, crimson and orange, like the flame he emerged from spread his wings wide as he bared down on the young man, his staff of flames, the Kinjakan ushering forth fire. The young man braced himself, using the Phoenix lord's other staff, the Gekkaja, it's crescent moon blade defending him by freezing the air around him, holding back the flame... It was almost not enough, but his first betrothed, in an act of love, the herself at the Phoenix Lord, her magically altered body creating a tunnel of cold. The young man, having learned from the wisest and most beautiful of the Amazon elders, meaning myself of course, used the difference to unleash a version of the Dragon Ascension Wave, the Dragon Ice Piercing Thrust rending the wings from the Phoenix Lord's body and destroying the incarnation of Saffron. The young man's victory was timely, as he was able to secure the waters of revival and save his one true love in the nick of time."_

_"That's some legend, ma'am," Tooru muttered weakly, her eyes closed._

_"Legend? Heh heh heh," she cackled, "That happened in the mid 90s. Hashimoto was in office."_

_"Really? Who was that young man, then?"_

_"I suspect you'll run into him sooner or later, Tokyoite."_

Tooru looked up at the finished wings of the phoenix, wiping her brow once more. She thought about the story and the old woman's words before suddenly dropping his pencil.

"Oh shit, she was talking about Saotome," she said to no one in particular, her senses returning, she cursed herself and picked up the pencil.

As if on cue, Tooru's phone vibrated twice. Picking it up, she saw a text from the Phoenix Slayer in question:

_See ya tomorrow Fuki! ^_^_

_Harajuku Station. 11AM_

_Wear workout clothes._

Tooru forwarded the message to Mari and replied:

_What I have doesn't exactly fit, as I learned this morning._

A minute later, she received a response.

_Do the best ya can. We'll shop for the rest. ^_-_

Tooru smirked, "Mari should enjoy that part," she muttered to herself as she typed:

_Will do, Phoenix Slayer._

A few moments later Ranma replied.

_Where d'ja hear 'bout that?_

Tooru chuckled to herself and typed:

_A little old lady told me._

Tooru sauntered down the short hallway towards his bedroom when whe stooped at the kitchenette. She pondered making tea before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

_You spendin' time gettin' to know yourself (lol)?_

Tooru frowned at the message. She vaguely recalled the recommendation by the martial artist to spend some time just sitting around getting used to the cursed form in a safe space, which is was the principal reason she had spent the better part of the evening sketching in the unfamiliar body, despite the more slender fingers making holding on to her drafting pencils and crow quill pen very difficult, wincing each time she dropped them. . The pamphlets that Ranma's wife gave him detailed things to note such as changes in height, visual acuity, sense of smell, shedding/molting of feathers or scales, and the importance of noting places and things inaccessible without the use of opposable digits.

_I'm walking around my apartment in house slippers currently two sizes too big for me if that helps._

Tooru walked towards her room noting the length of her stride, and how her pelvis affected the sway if her body.

Tooru muttered to herself, "This is sort of like this morning, though I was too aggravated at the time to pay it any mind. Wonder if that's why I almost tripped on that bit of sidewalk."

As she entered her bedroom, she closed the door behind her and sat the phone down on a small desk.

"Maybe I'll write a list of differences. That should satisfy Saotome," Tooru thought. She sat at the desk and took some quick notes. Finally she set down the pencil and stretched her arms.

Tooru shook his head as he set the phone on his desk and stretched her arms, "Ugh that's enough, I'm taking a shower and passing out."

Standing, Tooru undressed, throwing her clothes clothes in a small hamper. She then grabbed a white cloth robe and towel from a hook behind the bedroom door. Hoisting the items on her shoulder she looked at the full length mirror which was hung behind the more closed door.

Objectively, Tooru mused, the girl he was looking at wasn't necessarily his type. She was tall, her face delicate, but definitely androgynous. The short hair was a factor, but the build, which was thin and on the boyish side gave her a quality that was reminiscent of Tilda Swinton or Jenny Shimizu.

Compared to that, the women he went for were rather different. He had usually tried (and failed) to date very conventionally feminine girls who were short, petite, and curvy. Tooru recalled his first girlfriend in high school, Yuka, who was practically a Yamato Nadeshiko in training. Then there was Manami in art school, who had a very riot grrrl style, which was tough, but yet evoked an almost blinding cuteness along with the ripped jeans, leather jackets, and eyebrow piercings.

His most recent girlfriend, Sachiko, was an OL from the Hobbies and Interests Division who was sizing Tooru up as marriage material and, evidently, found him lacking. Tooru was relieved, in a way. While he was happy he was finally in a relationship, he had a sneaking suspicion if he ran into her in five years, she'd be a full-fledged Education Mama and a total bore.

Tooru studied her reflection again, paying particular attention to her face. She thought to herself, "Actually, if I dyed my hair red and had a couple of piercings on my face, I'd look a lot like..."

"Hey bro! You home?" a voice called out from the outside the apartment. Almost immediately afterwards, there was a jostling nose emanating from outside Tooru's bedroom as the front door creaked open.

"Amane! Shit!" Tooru yelled to herself as she ran across her apartment and and jumped into the bathroom. Not wasting a second. she turned on the hot water head turning back to himself in seconds. He turned off the tap and hastily put on his robe.

"Oh, Amane! Uh, hey, you didn't call or anything," Tooru sputtered as he walked out of the bathroom, his hair wet on one side and dry on the other, fumbling tying the knot on the belt of his robe. Amane closed the door, looking at Tooru strangely.

Tooru realized his assessment of his female form was more spot on then he had first guessed. Amane was a hair taller than Tooru's female form's 175 cm in height and proportioned similarly, though Amane was more pear-shaped and less androgynous in appearance than Tooru. She was dressed in ripped black denim jeans and a maroon hoodie, along with calf-length boots with an intimidating number of buckles and spikes.

The other main differences in features were the crop of short, asymmetrically cut, dyed-red hair and the various piercings she had: several on her ears, a barbell piercing on one eyebrow, and a Monroe piercing on her upper lip. The final key difference was that, compared to Tooru at the moment, she was stinking drunk.

Amane said, loudly slurring her words, "Hey bro! Howzit... Why're you takin' a shower s' late?"

Tooru blinked, unsure what to make of her, "Actually I was getting ready to go to bed before you came in. I got distracted... with work! Y-yeah. Was drawing and lost track of time," he explained, laughing nervously afterwards.

Amane looked up at Tooru with one squinting as she took a whiskey-soaked measure of her brother, "Hmmm... Figures it'd be something' dorky. Almost thought you finally got a girlfriend," Tooru was momentarily bug-eyed, but relaxed when Amane added, emphatically poking Tooru's ribs, "but then I remembered it's  _you_  we're talking about."

"Gee. Thanks, dearest sister," Tooru replied flatly, closing the door behind her.

Amane dropped her purse and slowly took off a pair of high leather boots. "Anyway, sorry 'bout bargin' in. Kinda late and I missed the last train."

"Couldn't shack up with your latest boyfriend, huh?" Tooru teased as he walked to his kitchen to make tea.

Amane walked into the living room of the apartment and slumped onto a small leather couch, lied down, and muttered "In between boytoys if you gotta be nosy. Too busy workin' on stuff for the lab for much ofa love life."

Tooru nodded as he poured the water into a teapot, "I see. What about the other Devas? Thought you'd be out with them."

Amane yelled, her voice only partially muffled by the cushions, "The Ichigo Devas are done, bro! Band's his'try!" she said, slurring the words at the end.

Tooru walked towards Amane, holding the teapot and two mugs. He set the items down on a coffee table at sat at a small chair next to the couch Amane was laying down on. He poured the tea into a mug and said, "So that's what this is about... You and Chie have been uneasy since she moved up here to join you." Amane shakily sat up and Tooru handed her a mug of tea.

"Well... she, Ugh! She thinks I'm not serious about the band 'cause I gotta day job. She's been on my case, actin' all 'holier than thou'! I got pissed and then she- I can't fuckin believe it! UGH!"

"Easy there! I have neighbors, you know," Tooru gently chided her

Amane took a sip of tea and set the mug down on the coffee table. Tooru added, "I'm sorry to hear it, sis. You two were really good friends." Amane froze upon hearing the word 'friends'.

She sat quietly for a moment before continuing, "Anyways, we had it out at the club and I just stumbled out. Took a cab to your place. From Shibuya's it's cheaper than all the way back to Chiba... Damn those bastards movin' our lab to the Noda Campus. I miss livin' in Iidabashi. Can barely get a decent drink over in fuckin' Unga."

Tooru reacher over the table and patted her shoulder, "You shouldn't be drinking that much anyways. It's bad for you."

Amane rolled her eyes. "Can it, grandma. I'm 24, jeez."

Tooru stood and walked towards his bedroom, "You're still my kid sister. Anyway, don't throw up on my couch. I'll get you some extra sheets from my linen closet."

"...Thanks, bro," Amane said as she once again lied down on the couch and closed her eyes. When Tooru returned with a blanket and quilt, he found her breathing softly and evenly. He tucked her in and, with a sigh of self-satisfaction, took and shower and went to bed.

The next Morning, Tooru quietly walked into his living room. He took two slices of bread and a jar of jam from the fridge and placed them on a plate by the sink. He wrote on a small notepad:

_Going out to run errands._

_Eat something before you go home._

_Call me next time you decide to barge in, please_

_-Tooru_

Tooru turned and glanced at his couch, he saw Amane, laying on her back asleep with her mouth open, snoring softly. The covers he had given her were now mostly on the hardwood floor, only covering her ankles. He snickered at the sight as he gathered his belongings in a messenger bag and left the apartment.

* * *

Just outside of Harajuku Station, Tooru shuffled uncomfortably towards an area next to station less choked with pedestrians. Aside from the fact she found the rather  _unique_  architecture of the station more unsettling than cute, with its architectural inspiration in English countryside cottages rather than urban Japan skyscrapers. The sheer number of people exiting the station as well made Tooru wish she could have just stayed in her apartment.

Her ill-fitting wardrobe didn't help matters., She wore the smallest pair of jeans she owned, a somewhat distressed pair from college which had been left in the dryer too long. They had been difficult to maneuver over her hips and flopped pathetically around her waist. The sweater she wore wasn't much better, feeling more itchy than she recalled and she resorted to wearing several shirts in order to make certain... elements of her anatomy less visible in the relatively cool weather of the morning.

Musing at the oddity upon oddity that was her life, she felt a hand on her back. Looking back was the blue-haired friend, looking as energetic as a squirrel on some form of illegal amphetamine. She was dressed in a tastefully cut, but otherwise conservative ochre jersey dress and a cream colored cardigan sweater. On her head was a white beret that seem to defy gravity as it leaned to one side of her head.

Mari smiled as she said, "Hi Tooru-kun! How are you doing this morning?"

Tooru shrugged, "I've been better. I'm kind of cold though."

"So I see," Mari replied coyly, looking up at her chest. Tooru looked down and sighed in exasperation.

"Dammit. I wore like three shirts under this sweater. Why is it so cold? It's 15 degrees out, not 5!"

"Yep. You're gonna get that, though," another familiar voice replied matter of factly, tapping Tooru's other shoulder. Tooru looked to his left and saw the red-haired martial arts sensei and, for today at least, female-body occupational therapist. She was clad in black sweatpants and a large, fluffy-looking grey sweater. She wore a simple black headband and had her hair tied up in a ponytail rather than the pigtail worn at the meeting the other day.

Tooru smiled as she looked upon her companions for the day. Ranma and Mari were almost exactly the same height and, differences in age aside, their figures were similarly shaped and their faces were close enough in appearance that the two of them looked like they could have been long lost sisters, the tomboyish red-haired eldest daughter and the blue haired girly-girl youngest.

Mari bowed quickly, "Ah, nice too meet you Mr. Saotome. Or are you his wife?" Mari asked, smiling as she coyly 'corrected' herself.

Ranma replied, "Nah, wife's over in Ginza with her well to do sister," Ranma looked over at Tooru, "Friend a yours?"

Tooru shrugged and smiled wryly, "Of a sorts. More of a pest, if you ask me."

"Tooru!" Mari chided, hitting the tall woman lightly with her handbag, "Don't be a meanie. We're best friends!"

Tooru amended, "This is Mari Ishida. We're co-workers. She means well, but since I came back from China, she's been acting more immature than usual. Ever since she's known about the curse, she's been bursting at the seams to 'take me shopping'."

Ranma nodded in understanding, "Ah-ha! That's why her aura feels like that. She looks like a kid in a candy store, if ya ask me."

Tooru chuckled, "That's perhaps that best way to put it, Ranma."

"Hey!" Mari protested, "I'm just excited to meet new people too!"

"Well anyway, the name of the game today is to get a rundown of how you move, how you feel, and just some basic running around in your cursed form. Just think of it as an average Saturday out on the town with your best girl friends."

"My typical Saturday involves the gym, cleaning he grout in my bathroom, and, if I'm feeling daring, I'll get takeout from the Korean Tofu restaurant down the street."

Ranma patted Tooru's shoulder in pity, "Then think of this as an intervention and we're savin' you from yourself."

The three set out away from Harajuku proper and into Yoyogi Park, to the West, past the grounds of the Meiji Shrine.

As they walked towards their destination Ranma asked, "So ya got some flight time with that body last night?"

Tooru nodded "Yeah, until my sister barged into my apartment, drunker than forty salarymen at a business conference."

"You didn't tell Amane? I mean, I know she's kind of a..." Mari asked Tooru trailing off.

Tooru shook her head, "I don't want to know her reaction  _sober_ , let alone after her tenth whiskey and soda."

"Uh," Ranma interjected, "You know, you're gonna have to tell her if she's family, right? Take it from me, it's kinda a bad habit to start."

"Maybe when I'm not so clumsy in this form. I had to have dropped my sketching pencils at least a dozen times last night," Tooru sighed as they arrived at a clear patch of grass and stopped.

Ranma surveyed the area while saying, "Huh, never had a problem with manual dexterity," adding, "We'll work some training in." She turned to face Tooru. "All right, let's spend some 'face time'. I kinda wanna see how well you fight." Ranma took Tooru's duffel bag from her hand and gave it and her own to Mari. Mari moved to a slightly raised part of the field and sat down.

"Fight!?" Tooru yelled in disbelief.

"Yeah!" Ranma replied, flexing a bicep, "No better test of your body then a good sparring match!"

"But.. but.. Can't we play basketball or soccer or something? Something less violent?" Tooru asked, growing concerned.

"Gotta soccer ball lying around?" Ranma asked, looking up at Tooru, an impish grin on her face as she started cracking her knuckles, "'sides , you're like a ni-dan in kempo, right?"

"In high school!" Tooru countered, "I never particularly cared for it, though."

"I know you can take care a yourself. I'll go  _real easy_ on ya," Ranma said, emphasizing the words with a shark-like grin.

Tooru sputtered a dry protest, but sighed after a moment and took a stance, her legs feeling heavy and unsure with both the years of rust and the new proportions.

"Go-go Tooru-chan!" Mari cheered on from the sidelines, pumping her fists in the air, a wide smile at the scene in front of her..

"Mari! Don't call me-WOAH!" Tooru turned to admonish Mari, barely dodging Ranma's fist as it came into her peripheral vision.

"Pay attention, Tooru!" Ranma yelled, "Can't be lettin' you girlfriend distract ya!"

"What are you talking about! I-" Tooru slipped

"Can't get so flustered just cause I'm teasin' ya, neither!" Ranma cracked, sticking out her tongue afterward.

Tooru spent the next twenty minutes mostly in a state of panic as she avoided the flurry of punches and kicks thrown by the relatively diminutive martial artist. She saw the child-like glee in Ranma's eyes and knew that the martial artist was merely toying with her, like she probably did with her children.

Once she had that epiphany, Tooru slowly regained her composure. She began fighting back, though once or twice she tripped on her own feet. She was also flustered by the many times a punch or kick would miss by mere centimeters, causing her to almost fall from throwing all of her weight forward.

After almost of hour of this back and forth, Ranma called time and Tooru collapsed on the grass below her, breathing heavily. Mari ran up and touched her shoulder.

"Are you okay, Tooru-kun?" Mari asked.

"Y-yeah... fine... Damn, but I'm awful," Tooru responded, slowly regaining her wind.

"You two were incredible! I didn't know you could do that Tooru!" Mari beamed before sheepishly adding, "I always thought you were kinda wimpy." Tooru let out a groan before suddenly breathing in.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, kid," Ranma reassured her, "You ain't too bad for a white-collar schlub. Coulda probably given my brother-in-law a run for his money back in high school."

Mari looked at Ranma her eyes wide as saucers, "you were amazing! That was so cool! Are you really just a martial arts teacher? I bet you're really a superhero or something!"

Ranma let out a loud chuckle as she grabbed the back of her head, "Nah. Fought enough big, mean, and ugly folks for this lifetime," Ranma said, wiping the sweat off her bangs, " 'sides, Akane'd kill me if I tried," she admitted to Mari.

Tooru shakily stood, examining her arms as though for the first time which, in some ways, it was since the week between Jusenkyo and Tokyo was filled with confusion, panic, and an alcohol-induced haze.

"This is so weird, I feel really clumsy," Tooru admitted, throwing down her hands in defeat.

Ranma stretched her body, standing on her tiptoes while extending her arms upward, hands clasped. After uttering a relaxed sigh, she said, "No wonder, you've relied on your reach and height to get you through fights, huh?"

"Well formal tournament sparring matches, but yes. I guess I didn't realize how much I took advantage of it," Tooru said, working the kinks out of her arm.

Ranma patted Tooru's shoulder, "Don't worry, you're still super tall for a woman, even if your reach is kinda short for your height," Ranma added, "The girls gettin' in the way?"

Tooru looked down at Ranma and blinked, "Excuse me?"

Ranma sighed, "Your boobs, Fuki," she said pointing to the anatomical features in question on Tooru's person. "I find cross-body movement, like this," Ranma said as she demonstrated, throwing a few quick crosses followed by an uppercut, "is a bit tougher, but then again, the Jusenkyo Gods saw fit to give me goddamn F cups."

"I had figured an H by the looks of it," Tooru thought before she felt a buzzing in her head imagining cloth measuring tape and the other fashion-related indignities she had been made aware of in her profession. She glanced back at Mari, who smiled and waved at her before taking out her phone and absorbing herself in it. Tooru gulped and asked Ranma, "Can, can we talk about something else?"

Ranma shook her head, "This is what we're here for, Fuki. Can't be squeamish about it. Not like you ain't sporting them right now too, though it looks like you're more realistically proportioned. Any pain?"

"Um, a little, mostly when I land or I make a big movement with my arms. Oh and when I was jogging the other day I kind of got splashed and running back they started to hurt after a kilometer or so."

Ranma nodded and spoke with some professional distance, "Yep. Figured as much. We got two options for ya. One is better than the other, but you may balk at it. All I'm gonna say is don't be hard-headed about it."

"Hard-headed about what?"

Ranma tugged her pigtail for a moment, before she said, in a gentle voice, "A sports bra. You're gonna need a few, especially if you work out a lot."

Tooru put up her hands in protest, "N-now wait just a minute here, Saotome! What's the second option?"

"A chest binder," Ranma said matter of factly.

"A what?" Tooru asked.

Ranma continued, "It's this thing female crossdressers and transgender guys use. I friend of mine switched to them after usin' a sarashi for ages a couple of years back. After she did, I read up on 'em. I was still avoidin' the whole 'bra' thing then. Akane'd been getting on my case to wear one when I was a woman since high school, but I mean,  _come on,_ right?" Ranma explained, playfully rolling her eyes to evoke past sentiments, "So, as a compromise, I got one of them instead."

Ranma gestured up and down her torso with her hands, "It's like a tight spandex shirt. It works, but it's real tight, like hard to breath tight, when you're a guy, hot as hell in the summer and, when you change, you have to deal with the feeling of your boobs squished against your armpits."

Tooru winced at the description then sighed as she realized she had instinctively winced at a sort of pain she was wholly unfamiliar with a mere two weeks before.

"In comparison a sports bra is less of a hassle, not ta mention less noticeable. I mean, you didn't notice I was wearing one the other night, did ya?" Ranma asked.

Tooru narrowed her eyes in thought, "Hmm... now that you mention it... no. I mean I thought I saw something, but I thought it was merely a tank top."

Ranma nodded, "Yep. I don't use 'em all the time, but it's good ta have if you think it'll be a problem. Even so, I'm betting, day to day, under a suit and jacket, nobody'd notice."

"Can't I just carry hot water around?"

"You could. I tried it in college for a while. It can work, but I always find I'm out of hot water just as I have to run away from a large mob or fight a four meter tall demon made of nattou."

"That seems rather, unlikely... Though I think I understand what you mean by preparing for any contingencies" Tooru said, looking back at Mari who was admiring the crowds while texting on her phone, "I'll think about it, but... I don't want people to talk. To think I'm..."

"A pervert?" Ranma added.

"That isn't it. Not really..." Tooru stopped and sighed. "Well sort of. I seem to already give off the wrong impression to strangers. Let's say that while I'm dreading it, if I get hit on by strange men, it wouldn't be the first time."

"Hah! Yeah... I can see that," Ranma nodded as she chuckled softly.

"What are you implying?"

Ranma replied flippantly, "Just sayin', your guy form looks like a type and that type don't make much time with the ladies in my experience."

"Well it's not for lack of trying in my case. I'm just rather dull, it seems," Tooru sulked, falling into a crouch.

Ranma frowned and said, apologetically, "Just teasin', Tooru. Sorry if I hit a sore spot."

Tooru sighed, idly pulling up a strand of grass, "You know the first time a girl has ever flirted with me, unprompted, was the other night on the train back home?"

Ranma blinked as she recalled the details, "Ya mean like..."

"Indeed, 'like'," Tooru replied flatly.

Ranma guffawed in laughter as Mari looked, confused by the spectacle.

Ranma stopped and suddenly announced, "I'm pretty famished. Any good places ta eat around here?"

Mari's eyes widened and she stood suddenly, saying, "I know the perfect place for us ladies!" And started walking south towards exit of the park.

Tooru rolled her eyes and looked at Ranma, who looked back with a similar expression of incredulity. They mutually shrugged and followed.

* * *

Walking out of Yoyogi Park into the edges of Sibuya proper, Mari took the lead, guiding the still limping Tooru, and cheerful Ranma, who was watching the passersby, into the small streets and pedestrian walkways past the large shopping complexes. Mari eventually led Tooru and Ranma, by the hand to a small shop just off of the busy Udagawa-cho district. She stopped seemingly at random in front of a quiet storefront. She pointed at the white wooden door.

"This is one of my favorite places, you guys! The decor is so cute and everything is so tasty!" Mari exclaimed in her most energetic voice, looking for all the world as if there was French accordion music in the air that only she could hear.

Tooru looked at the pastel baby blue exterior and the white wooden moulding, obviously a facade, at the door and windows. At the top of the door, the word 'Creperie Bretagne' was written in an old fashioned script.

"Oh,  _this_  place. Of course," Tooru nodded slowly upon recognition.

Ranma took in the design of the storefront, a temporal mishmash of 19th Century Beaux Arts complete with wrought iron cresting and a fake mansard roof and more contemporary Parisian design. "Weird lookin' place. Well, as long as the food's tasty, I don't care what it looks like."

Mari looked horrified, "Weird? It's cute! And beautiful! It's like being in Paris!" she insisted.

"Except not," Tooru said, pointing to an vintage clothing store across the street, "It's obvious we're in Harajuku."

"Yeah, it's a little creepy, actually. I never got why women like that frenchy stuff so much," Ranma said looking at the doorway somewhat skeptically.

Tooru shook her head, "Neither have I. I mean, there is something to be said about the clean deco lines and the sort of pre-industrial pastoral elements of it, but it really isn't to my taste. At least the food isn't too expensive."

Mari turned around dramatically at her red and silver-haired companions, rolled her eyes, and declaimed, "Ugh! Men!" and stuck out her tongue before entering the cafe.

Tooru and Ranma looked at each other, both finding themselves grinning stupidly as they walked in.

After ordering, the sat at a counter along the window facing the pedestrian thoroughfare. Tooru lightly sipped her cafe au lait, while Ranma tore through a crepe filled with strawberries and Nutella, sipping a drip coffee she ordered along with a glass of ice water..

Mari looked a touch starry eyed, taking in the decor until she stood from her chair. "Oh, I'll be back. Have to use the bathroom," she said taking her purse and walking off.

Tooru cut a piece of savory crepe, grabbing a stray mushroom as she ate slowly, staring at the crowd. The streets seemed crowded with young couples on a casual date or groups of women as they went window shopping down the boutique filled streets and the large mall that made up the majority of shopping in Harajuku.

"Grub ain't too bad," Ranma said as she reached for the second crepe she bought, filled with ham, gruyere, and onions, "That chocolatey stuff's pretty good. The boys'd love it. They got my sweet tooth."

Tooru nodded, "I've been here once with some of my co-workers. It's a nice place, I suppose, but I have to say I never feel like I've had a proper meal after eating a crepe."

Ranma nodded. "Yeah, I know what ya mean. Just ain't a meal without rice."

Tooru pointed at Ranma and nodded excitedly, "Exactly! This is nice, but it feels less than substantial than a meal of just rice and pickles."

Ranma suddenly laughed with a deep, warm resonance, "We're both actin' like a couple of old men. That reminds me, with Jusenkyo, you're gonna develop a real love of hot baths too."

"I already liked a good bath, especially after my back started acting... Oh shit!" Tooru whispered as she turned her head away from the window.

"What the hell? You okay?"

Tooru whispered, unmoving, "Across the street. Red-haired girl in the hoodie with the piercings."

"Yeah?" Ranma replied idly as she scanned the crowd outside finding the woman in question in front of a small boutique.

"It's my sister."

"Oh, that all? She's lookin' at a shirt or somethin' " Ranma replied, shrugging as she went back to her crepe.

" 'That all?' " Tooru repeated in aggravation.

Ranma swallowed a large piece of crepe and drank her coffee before saying, "Well, she's pretty cute. Kinda reminds me of myself when I was just outta college. No piercings, mind ya, and I was trudging along a three-year-old while 'kane had little Ryuuji in tow. Your sister's a real spitfire, huh?"

Tooru groaned, "She's not supposed to be here, Ranma! I thought she'd go back to Chiba after she woke up! I can't let her see me like this!"

Ranma looked at the panicked silver-haired woman with a half-lidded expression. She patted Tooru's shoulder and said, "So? Tooru, you'll be okay. Even forgettin' you're in cursed form, we're in Shibuya on a Saturday in a place she'd probably rather lose a limb than go into. You ain't gonna run into her if ya don't want to and as long as nobody spills hot liquid on ya, you'll be-" Ranma was interrupted by a voice from a customer

"Ow! My heel!" A woman said as she stumbled, her left shoe sending a small paper cup of hot tea into a high arc. Coming down, the cup turned and the hot water spilled out over the tall silver haired woman, who changed into an even taller black-haired man.

"Ow, Hot! Oh god, my groi-!" Tooru yelled doubly at the scalding liquid and the sudden tightness at the inseam of his jeans. A second later. similarly jarring cold wetness engulfed him and she changed back. "Thanks, Ranma," Tooru said, catching her breath and adjusting herself in her seat.

Ranma nodded, "I knew I forgot to tell ya somethin'. You should always order a glass of water on days like this. Jusenkyo victims are extra susceptible ta Murphy's Law."

Tooru went back to her half-eaten crepe, only to find it floating in tepid water on her plate. She stared at the ruined meal in total silence, unnoticed by her red-haired companion. A moment later, Tooru heard the sliding of a chair as Mari sat back down. The bubbly girl, turned to smile at her companions, only to see Ranma, oblivious to everything else as she was in the midst of devouring her third crepe while Tooru looked at her food, water dripping from her hair onto the plate and sighing plaintively.

"Did I miss anything?"

* * *

Walking down near Inokashira Dori, Ranma, in her most professorial voice, was giving Tooru some sartorial advice.

"All right, I think three or four pairs of sports bras should do. I'd think about some other stuff to wear..."

Mari piped up, "Oh, why don't we see what H&M has! There's this black jersey dress you'd look beautiful in Tooru."

"What!? I don't think so, Mari!" Tooru yelled.

"I think that's a little advanced for the young lady, Ishida," Ranma jokingly chided Mari, She turned back to Tooru, "I was thinking more along the lines of a few pair of jeans that fit your girl form better. Or maybe something that's a better compromise between the two, anyway."

"Awww," Mari pouted.

"Don't worry. You'll get your chance sooner than you think," Ranma whispered conspiratorially to Mari, "My wife and her sister had me in garters and heels about a month and a half after I got cursed, though I was runnin' away and screamin' my head off the whole time."

"Oh, I hope so," she whispered back, "I have an idea for an ensemble that would be great on her! She'd look great in some Gautier. If I had the money, I'd throw her in a McQueen."

"I dunno what you're talkin' about, but Tooru's got a look for fancy European clothes cause he's so tall, even in that form, lucky bastard. I'm lucky I like Chinese styles. 'bout the only thing I look good in."

Mari, slightly surprised, turned to Ranma, "Really? Me too!"

"Oh Yeah?" Ranma asked, interested, "When I need ta dress up in my girl form, I can rock a cheongsam second only to my friend Shanpu. 'Course I usually just eat the food. Impossible to find a good dim sum place in Nerima." Ranma remarked idly.

"Does your wife get jealous?" Mari asked, "I know I'd be if my husband looked better than me."

"Don't sell yourself short, you look like you take care a yourself," Ranma complimented, "Heh, Akane used to beat the crap outta me cause I always teased her about bein' better built than her in high school. Well, I teased her about lots of stuff, but I was just a kid and I didn't know any normal ways a gettin' a girl's attention. I liked that she was kinda a tomboy, but still cute in her own way." Ranma smiled warmly before adding, "And anyway, she got her revenge when she got cursed and looked better in a tux than I did at my wedding!" Ranma remarked, laughing at the memory.

"Oooh, that's an idea! There's this Michael Kors wedding dress from last season that would definitely look stun-"

"If you two ladies could stop talking like I was some paper doll. I'll be fine on some jeans and t-shirts thank you very much." Tooru interrupted the two, "As to your suggestion earlier Ranma, I'll pass for now, but I'll take it into consideration." Tooru walked off grousing.

"Oh, I'm sorry Tooru-kun, I-" Mari said before realizing Tooru was ignoring her as he walked ahead of them..

Ranma pulled Mari close and said, "Let him be. He needs time ta take it in. Makin' peace with any Jusenkyo curse happens piecemeal."

Mari nodded, looking ahead to her awkward looking friend, looking hangdog as she sauntered down the crowded shopping district.

Ranma continued, noting where Mari's eyes led, "Yeah, The gender curses are the trickiest, in my opinion. Mostly 'cause you stay very close to the same. It ain't like turning into a horse or a dragon or somethin'. You're still  _you_  in almost every way that's important. You can talk, you got thumbs, people don't look at you funny just by the way ya look."

She continued, "But the flipside is that ya can't compartmentalize. My friends don't gotta think too much about the deep social intricacies of bein' a piglet or a duck or whatever, but humans are social. People expect if they see a girl that they're a girl and vice versa. So a curse like what I got and what Tooru's got is tough cause ya gotta find yourself again and figure out where you stand in the world around ya and that's real tough."

Mari nodded, looking at Tooru, who seemed to be looking down at her hands in contemplation.

"Well anyhoo, Mari." Ranma said, the levity returning to her voice, "Wanna go cruise the rest of this part of town and see whatever crap on clearance we can find?"

"Sounds like a plan, Ranma-chan!"

Ranma raised an eyebrow, "You do like the cutesy nicknames, huh?"

* * *

Walking around the second floor of the Uniqlo store, near Yoyogi Park, but in Shibuya proper, Tooru wandered the rows of clothes. Ranma had distracted Mari with more fanciful clothes at the nearby Miu Miu store, leaving the neophyte female with some time to reflect on some of what Ranma had talked about with regard to clothing. She was still unsure and a bit unsettled looking through the throngs of women's clothing. It wasn't a dirty feeling that echoed through her, but just a confusion and dissonance that was still present.

Looking though a display of tops and jeans, Tooru dryly remarked to herself, "Well, at least dark colors are in this season. Looks more gender neutral than that canary monstrosity Mari insisted on."

Spying a charcoal sweater-vest that looked rather similar to one she already bought a few months back, she reached over to touch the fabric, but was interrupted by another hand.

"Oh I'm sorry I-" Tooru's mouth hung half-open as she looked up and saw a very familiar woman in front of him, her short red hair and piercings immediately noticeable.

"Ah... sorry!" the red-haired woman said, pulling her hand back, " I wasn't paying attention, though I don't know how. Not many of us tall girls here, you know?"

"I... I guess I don't think about it much," Tooru replied nervously.

"Yeah, makes finding a boyfriend hard, that's for sure," she quipped.

Tooru gulped softly, "Ah, heh heh heh.. well... somewhat."

"I'm Amane."

"Oh, I'm To... Tomoko! Yes!" Tooru replied, kicking herself for lacking any sort of foresight on the matter.

"To-chan!" Tooru heard Mari's voice call out.

"Oh, that's my friend! I have to go!"

Leading Mari back towards the escalators, Tooru whispered frantically, "I'll yell at you to stop with the cutesy nicknames later, but for once, it worked out for the best. We gotta go. Now."

"Why? who were you..." Mari trailed off as she looked back, "your sister!"

Tooru whispered pointedly, "Yes. She got drunk and crashed at my place last night, but I thought she was going straight home. I didn't think she'd be wandering Shibuya of all places! I have to get out of here! Where's Saotome?" Tooru looked around but saw no sign of the red-haired woman in question. The two of them grabbed the down escalator and exited the boutique walking back towards the large mall where they had begun the shopping expedition.

Mari shook her head, "I lost him somewhere in Parco. He bought some kind of gardening power tool thing and then we went there after we went to look at the dresses in Miu Miu. There were these beautiful Roland Mouret Brocade dresses. Kind of like the Marc Jacobs pieces we did the photo set for next month."

"I see. You must have enjoyed yourself," Tooru sniggered.

"They were really cute. On sale for only ￥197,000!" Mari crowed in a joking tone of voice, which prompted Tooru, who intellectually understood the price points of high fashion but couldn't really understand the fantastical markups certain brands garnered, merely nodded.

"A wallet saver," Tooru snarked.

Mari added, "Mr. Saotome really enjoyed herself! She looked stunning in this dark green empire-waist gown. She hammed it up for the sales associate. If she wanted to, he probably could've haggled the dress down to only 120,000. I bet she's had to fight the men off with a stick, poor guy."

Tooru was stopped in her tracks. She looked down at Mari, "There are so many things wrong with that, I'm not sure where to begin."

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Tooru began as they walked rapidly out of Joyful Eli, a bridal shop just north of Shibuya Station, "You bought an electric hedge trimmer?"

"Yeah. Well, the rose bushes at my Ma's are gettin' overgrown and Pop's too lazy ta prune 'em himself. So I got this edge trimmer dealie they had on sale."

"Okay. That makes sense, I think. But what's with the silk gown?"

"Ah. Sorry, Tooru. Had a little bit of an ulterior motive today. I gotta weddin' ta go to in a few weeks and I kinda lost a bet with Akane. I really honestly thought the bride'd be wearing the tux, but I guess they compromised and they're  _both_ wearin' dresses."

Tooru raised an eyebrow, to which Ranma replied "Eh, I thought Ucchan stopped carin' about that sorta thing. So anyway, I gotta be maid of honor while 'kane gets ta be the best man. So I picked up the dress at the bridal shop since I was in the area."

"Are these people cursed?" Mari asked, putting a finger to her mouth in confusion.

"Nah," Ranma shook her head, "let's just say most of my friends had rough childhoods."

" _That_ I understand," Tooru added sympathetically, "What I don't understand is what possessed you to turn on the  _power tool_  indoors."

"I got bored waiting for the alterations and wanted ta make sure it worked. I mean I only severed a mannequin and it wasn't even dressed so no harm, no foul, right?" Ranma replied, putting on a cutesy smile which only prompted riotous laughter from Mari and peevishness from Tooru who rubbed her aching forehead.

Nearing the crowded entrance of Shibuya Station, Ranma looked up at Tooru.

"You sure you don't wanna change back before you go? It'd probably help your chances of your sister not catchin' ya in the act of changin', ya know."

Tooru shook his head, "No, I'm sure she'll head back to Chiba from here. She's usually content to pass out on my couch, eat my bread and coffee, and never say thanks."

"That's family for ya," Ranma smiled wistfully.

"Besides. I don't exactly have an outfit to change into and she saw me wearing this. If I ran into her here in guy form, it'd be a little bit suspicious. Better to just get back to my apartment and my cat and she won't ever be the wiser."

"All right. Take care. I had a lot of fun, Fuki. I'll text you with details on the next meeting!"

"See you Monday, Tooru-kun!"

"See you Monday, Mari. It was nice hanging out Ranma. Say hi to your wife for me."

"Will do, Tooru."

Tooru walked into the platform overhearing her friends speak.

"Wanna see me get us some free food?" Ranma suggested.

"Sure! Let's go to that Cha Siu Bao stand!" Mari said

"Sounds good ta me, Mari! Put on your cutest, dopiest, turnin' men-to-putty expression you have and follow my lead!" Tooru turned back briefly to see them walk, hand in hand in an almost frighteningly cute manner back into the throng of the Shibuya crowd. She suppressed a shudder as she walked through the ticket gate and down the stairs.

* * *

The Yamanote Line going North out of Shinjuku was rather sparse for a late afternoon Saturday and Tooru was reduced to standing in the middle of the train car. She looked at the crowd of people, mostly in pairs or small groups talking, or people shut off from the experience on their phones or listening to music. Tooru herself tuned out the crowd, the noise of the train engine, and the movement. She almost closed her eyes completely when she heard a voice that sent a chill up her spine.

"Fancy seeing you here again... 'Tooru' was it?"

Tooru opened her eyes and blinked, wondering if she fell asleep. The woman smiled at her the same, almost feral as she moved close to Tooru.

"Oh! It's uh, you. Emi, right? I'm sorry I didn't text you yet. Life's been... strange," Tooru replied cursing inwardly at being unable to think of a better adjective.

Emi smiled, looking at the frazzled Tooru up and down, "I know how that goes. What are you up to today?"

"Oh, I, uh, met up with the some friends in Harajuku. We walked around a bit, but I got kind of tired. I was going to turn in early."

"Shinjuku Station. Shinjuku," The train's speakers announced.

"Aww... well, if you have time, give me a ring. I'd love to have a coffee."

Tooru blushed, "Well, I'll see. I think I'd like that, after all."

The train stopped and Emi walked out. Tooru had a comically goofy smile on her face as she heard another voice call out.

"Tomoko-san?" a familiar voice call out. Tooru felt like her heart would stop beating.

Tooru turned around just in time to come face to face with Amane, who said, "Oh, is that you Tomoko-san? You heading home?"

"Yeah, uh... I live in Todenzoshigaya. Do you, uh, live nearby?" Tooru nervously asked.

Amane shook her head, "Nah. I'm crashin' at my big brother's place in Ikebukuro. He's a dork, but he minds his own business, so I can avoid going having to go back home and seeing... my roommate."

Tooru's expression turned serious and asked, "Did you have a fight with her?"

Amane grimaced, "Sort of, she... I didn't know, I mean how could I've known? Nah, I guess there were hints, but..." Amane's voice became very quiet, "She likes me."

Tooru blinked, "I don't quite understand. So is this just a tiff between best friends?"

Amane shook her head, "No... she 'like likes' me. Even though I'm straight. She's dated men too, but she... I guess she was good at hiding it."

There was a tense silence for a few minutes, Amane looking down and sighing, Tooru looking anywhere but at her sister, her face ashen at the revelation, Suddenly Amane chuckled in a wry manner and spoke, putting a hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

"Jeez, why am I opening up like this, to a random stranger? I dunno, maybe it's because you seem so familiar somehow. I feel like we're on the same level. Besides how tall we are, I mean," Amane said, smiling a bit at the end. Tooru hid her shock upon seeing Amane's expression, one in which he hadn't seen in his younger sister since middle school.

Tooru sighed, "Well, I'm sure you have friends and family who are looking out for you. I'm not going to tell you it's an easy situation, but trust those around you to hear you out and help you."

"Ikebukuro Station. Ikebukuro."

"Oh shit," Tooru thought, "I gotta get home and change!" She said aloud to Amane, affecting a nervous smile, "Ah, I have to get going! Running late! Take care!"

"Thanks for not getting too weirded out. I hope I see you around," Amane said, with a small hopeful smile.

"Uh, maybe," Tooru replied while thinking, "Not if I can help it!"

As the doors opened, Tooru bolted from the station, cutting through the small alleys and pedestrian paths she had learned from her morning jogs, cursing the jostling motion.

"Goddamn it, Ranma," she muttered to herself, scanning the streets for her sister, "Why do you have to be right about  _this_? God damn it they hurt..."

Tooru reached her apartment building, panting momentarily until she saw of red hair rounding the corner of the block. Tooru shot up the steps faster than she could last recall. Her hands were shaking as she struggled to dig the key out of her jean pocket and she let out a harried, "shit!" as she was forced to grab her wrist with her other hand to steady herself as the inserted the key into her door, turning the lock and opening the door.

Tooru quickly entered the apartment and slammed the door shut, locking it before running to her bedroom. Chibi welcomed its owner home by playfully rubbing around Tooru's long legs as she was maneuvering out of her jeans, tangling itself and Tooru in the process..

"Chibi, no, get out of here. Stubborn kitty!"

Tooru let out a sudden shriek as she tripped over herself. She was rewarded for her clumsiness by Chibi, who jumped onto Tooru's stomach and began purring.

"Jeez..."

Tooru shook her head, quickly stood and grabbed her robe racing to the shower. After a moment, she stepped into the warm water and changed back, eliciting a huge sigh of relief. After showering in earnest, he sat in the furo, his sore muscles enjoying the water, though worried that Amane had not arrived home yet.

"Maybe that wasn't her I saw?" Tooru thought.

Tooru shrugged as he soaked for a few more minutes before getting out and changing into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tank top.

He sauntered out of his bedroom, drying his hair when he heard the front door open.

"Bro. I'm home!" Amane called out as she entered the apartment.

Tooru put on his glasses and hung the towel on the hook on his bathroom door as he greeted his sister.

"Oh, hey. I thought you went back home already. Do you need to stay the night again?," Tooru asked, affecting his most casual tone of voice.

Amane looked at her brother oddly, "Um... Yeah, Needed some time to drink... err think. then drink," Amane replied, her voice and movement already a bit shaky as she took off her shoes.

Tooru sighed, shook his head, "You know you should take it easy. Exams are coming up."

Amane punched Tooru lightly on the shoulder, "Ah, lighten up, bro. Why do you always have to be such a boring, pompous ass?"

Tooru shrugged, not really in the mood to argue, "Well, it isn't like you can disappoint our parents or anything."

"Hah, like that means anything. Mom doesn't care what we do as long as we don't ask for money and Dad just coddles me cause I'm his 'baby girl'," Amane said, emphasizing the words in a mocking tone of voice, "it's patronizing."

Amane plopped down on the leather couch in the living room.

"Have a seat bro. Let me tell ya bout my day. What were you up to, anyway? You were gone by the time I got up."

Tooru sat down, looking less than relaxed, "Oh, you know. I did some shopping, worked out, bought cat litter. The usual Saturday."

"Figures," Amane replied flatly as she reached into a pocket of her hoodie, pulling out a can of beer and tossing it to Tooru, saying, "Here."

Tooru sighed contentedly as he easily grabbed the can. It was a tiring day and there was nothing quite like a cold beer after a shower. Tooru popped the top quickly and the can and its contents suddenly exploding on him.

Amane gasped, "Oh, sorry bro! That's the one I dropped on the way back from the convenience store 'fore I came..." she trailed off as she stared at the silver-haired woman in front of her.

"Dammit!" Tooru yelled, dismayed as she took off her dripping glasses and wiped them with the hem of her shirt, muttering, "At least leather is easy to clean." She caught Amane's glare and said, "Look, I was trying to figure out a more delicate way of explaining this."

Tooru put her glasses back on and looked back at her sister who was still staring wide-eyed, her jaw agape. Tooru merely shrugged.

"Well, I did say somebody was looking out for you."

_このまま消えても構わないなんて_

_そんな言葉はもっとズルくなってから言えよ_

_君が泣いてるのに 僕は何もできなかった_

_心の中じゃこんなに君を守りたいのに_

_聞こえるかい_ _?_ _心臓の音 それが命だよ_

_君の居場所をずっと探しつづけてる 君だけの音_

_忘れないでくれ愛してること 僕はどこにも行かないよ_

_君の涙飲みほしたら わかってくれるかい_ _?_

_新しく光れあなたの全て こんなヤミの世の中だって_

_君のこと愛したいんだよ 信じてくれるかい_ _?_

_僕は君とわかち合いたいんだ_

_If you say things like "I don't care if you leave me,"_

_you should use crueler words._

_Even though you're crying, I couldn't do anything_

_Even though I want to protect your heart._

_You hear it? The sound of your heart is life, you know._

_I'm still searching for your whereabouts, where there's only your sound_

_Loving you without forgetting, I'm not telling lies or anything_

_If I swallow up your tears, will you believe me?_

_Because it's such a dark world, your everything is shiny and new_

_I want to love you. You understand?_

_I want to dream with you._

Sambomaster - "新しく光れ" ("Shiny and New")

**Author Notes:**

And, on the eve of my 31st birthday, here is the delayed third chapter to  _Understudy_. I'm pushing this a bit earlier than I should and I think the fukufics folks (particularly Bree R. and K. Hammell) for taking a quick look. That said, I may come in and do some minor edits to the chapter. I apologize for the break, but the holiday season and a fried desktop PC, plus my work on  _Balance,_ _夢ばかりじゃない少女_ _,_ and _Wandering Martial Artist_ has kept me busy. In addition, my new project in collaboration with Unsurpassed Travesty,  _Prodigal Daughter_ (a fun post-manga Ukyou and Konatsu story) have taken up my writing time. I'm not sure when Chapter four will come out because of work commitments, but it will probably be sometime after Prodigal Daughter 2 comes out. Balance 6 is also in the works, though it's more planned/outlined than written at this point. I've spending a lot of time ironing out Wandering Martial Artist. I'm trying to make myself happy with a somewhat shorter story than my normal milieu, but plot/scope creep always threatens to break it.

Reviews and critiques for this or any other of my stories is always appreciated.

Happy 2013

_~裏には裏がある_

**Characters:**

**Amane Fuki (** **普喜遍** **):** Amane is a Graduate Student as Tokyo University of Science (formerly in the Iidabashi campus in Tokyo, now in the Noda Campus in Chiba Prefecture). She is the wunderkind to Tooru's failed eldest son/black sheep. She ribs on him pretty often. That said, they get along pretty well, having survived their parents, though sort of awkward around each other since he's so reserved and she has always been a bit of an iconoclast. Is a serial monogamist, but shamelessly drops men left and right. Has a key to Tooru's apartment, which she uses to pass out when the trains stop since she lives out in Chiba. Is less than friendly with Mari, who she sees as a boring otaku (and maybe not good enough for Tooru, who she thinks is gonna settle for the first decent person to come his way).

**Cultural and Lexical Notes:**

_Fujoshi_ (Literally: Rotten Girl) is a (usually pejorative) term used to describe a particular form of female otaku, particularly those who are into Boy's Love (BL) or yaoi doujinshi, though it can be used to describe female otaku in general.

 _Hikikomori_  (literally "pulling inward, being confined") is a term used to refer to the phenomenon of (typically) adolescents or young adults who withdraw from social life, usually though isolation and confinement from aspedts of life aside from media and the internet. The term refers to both the phenomenon as well as to people who make up these individuals.

The _Four Great Classical Novels_ make up the main canon of classical Chinese Literature. They are:  _Journey to the West_ ,  _The Water Margin_ ,  _Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ , and Dream of the  _Red Chamber_.

The _"Bubble"_ is the nickname for the Economic Bubble based on asset prices which lasted from (roughly) 1986 to 1991

 _Ryuutarou Hashimoto_ was an LDP Politician who served as the 53rd Prime Minister of Japan from January 11th, 1996 to July 30th, 1998

A  _Yamato Nadeshiko_ is the personification of the ideal traditional Japanese woman, soft spoken, beautiful, nd domestically adroit.

 _Education Mama_ : The  _kyōiku mama_  (教育ママ） or "Education Mama" is a stereotyped figure in modern Japanese society portrayed as a mother who relentlessly drives her child to study, to the detriment of the child's social and physical development, and emotional well being.

 _Miu Miu, Marc Jacobs, Michael Kors, Jean Paul Gautier, and Alexander McQueen are_  high end and haute couture fashion designers and/or labels.


End file.
